War and Peace
by LivesTooShort52
Summary: The Levantine assassin's are at their prime, Al Mualim decides the assassins need a change of scenery. Altaïr and company heads south into Georgia -a supposedly peaceful country, though things are changing rapidly. There, they meet Anima, one of the first female assassins. A/OC
1. Prologue: Migrations

Disclaimer: I don't own Assassin's Creed

**Warning: **This is** self-beta'd.**

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"_Everyone's got some, name your problems,  
What's it going to do today?  
You can bitch and moan about it,  
But things will never change._

"Belong Here" by: 78violet

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_*Insert annoyingly short Prologue*_

**Prologue: Migrations**

The group of four hooded men talked in hushed tones; each standing at a different corner of the worn out table.

"This is ridiculous. What if we are attacked?" The one named Altaïr demanded in a harsh, hushed, tone.

"It definitely sounds… interesting." His older friend, Malik, stated carefully.

The third hooded figure, a boy of twelve years named Kinja*****, remained silent and instead of talking like he usually did, and let his elders make the decision on their own – he had little say anyways. They found him very young and was taken in as an apprentice. Soon, the young boy found himself under Malik's wing as a novice assassin.

"It is decided then, we leave tomorrow." The Mentor, or Al Mualim, finished the discussion.

"This is dangerous and foolhardy." Altaïr sneered at the older man before jutting out his jaw as an unmistakable sign for overconfidence and purely masculine pride.

"That is enough!" the old man slammed his hand down on the table with a resounding 'crack!'. It was silent and the tension was as thick as oil. Altaïr's cold gaze was met evenly with The Mentor's. It was the younger man who stood down first. After a moment of awkward silence, The Mentor spoke, "We are leaving this evening. I have a close ally South of here, in a country called Georgia. We will head there. This is my decision and it is final."

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**A/N: **Anybody willing to **beta? **

*****Kinja = pronounced: Kin-ja


	2. Chapter One: Out of the Shadows

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Assassin's Creed.

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**Warning: **Not only is this **self-beta'd **but it also _probably _**not culturally correct. **Hey, it's an **AU ****–**I make the rules.

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_Test my reality,  
Check if there's a weak spot,  
Clingin' to insanity,  
Hopes the world will ease up._

_Try and make it look like it's all somehow getting better,  
'Cause I know how to play it pretty good against the measure.  
Everyone started out a little insane,  
But we learn pretty quick how to fake it for the game,  
But some of you never learned to drop the act,  
So under that skin of yours: a heart attack._

'_Cause everybody's so scared,  
We don't want to go there,  
We don't wanna make a move,  
We got our lives to lose,  
Screaming in the dark while we just play our part,  
I'll play right along,  
Like I don't know what's going on. _

"Make a Move" by: Icon for Hire

^^^This song – _check it out!_

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**Chapter One: Out of the Shadows**

**3****rd**** person POV**

The sound of thundering hoofs caused the locals on the outskirts of town to look up wearily; there weren't many new people coming into town since the impending war in surrounding countries. It was a small civilization on the outskirts of a big city. There, the people lived in peace; perfectly comfortable in their blissful and ignorant space. There, crime was rare, they were ruled fairly, and tragedy rarely struck. Everybody knew each other. There were no secrets.

Everything was how it was supposed to be.

It was evening when the four men galloped into the town before skidding to a halt on sweat-ridden horses. Each wore a cloak that hid their faces, armor that was of foreign make, and were covered in weapons that gleamed in the light. The sunset over the mountains casted tall shadows of the men and steeds over disoriented and confused people.

There was no doubt in any person's mind: they were Assassins.

They were people who were rarely –if ever- seen outside of their fort. The people of the small town tended to look the other way when the secluded Assassins that lived in the area did their job. The Assassins went against what the people stood for, but mere civilians didn't dare stop them. Hesitantly, they accepted that the robed people were the keepers of balance, peace, and the protectors of the town, though their methods were looked down upon highly. Though, to see so many at once out in the open was something that never happened before.

Mothers pushed their children behind them. Fathers stepped up to protect their loved ones wearily.

The Assassins meant war; something none of the civilians believed in.

The four hooded men dismounted their high-strung steeds with a deadly and almost unnatural grace. All the people in the town shuffled uneasily. The oldest one strode forward confidently towards the largest man in town. Even though the larger man towered over the elder, he still seemed frightened. They spoke silently for a moment before talking to a younger girl beside him in hushed and hurried tones.

She nodded vigorously for a moment before taking off around the corner carrying a message. The second she disappeared, all was silent again.

Some time passed and in that space, the villagers gave the four travelers what extra rations they had. The girl returned a little while later, assisting an elderly man against him. The elderly man broke away from her once he saw the Assassins and instead decided to hobble his way towards them on his own.

Now the two elders spoke in hushed tones.

Suddenly, the village elder straightened and put his fingers to his lips; a piercing whistle carried through the evening air with a practiced accuracy. Not one moment later, a shadow stepped out of an alleyway, shadows rolled away from him like water off a waterfowl's back, into the scene before him. The fifth hooded figure bowed to the Assassins and then the elder before motioning for the Assassins to follow him. The horses were left in the small village – one of the civilians would take care of them with the upmost care before bringing them to the Assassin's stables.

The five Assassins melded back into the shadows like ghosts before starting farther South into the base of the mountains. Slowly, the buildings became closer together and they were in the populated city. There, paper lights hung high on beams and the nightlife was active and energetic. Woman moved freely in dresses that allowed their hair and faces to show. All had angular features and dark skin like their relatives up North. Numerous guards stood on various street corners; enforcing what rules needed enforcing, but generally lenient. Together, they all moved to a more heavily guarded part of town where the guards were sharper, harsher, and more diligent – especially towards Assassins. Suddenly, the Assassin leading the group darted forward and up a wall into a pavilion, signaling for the others to follow. There was a commotion below:

People were screaming. The guards were running towards the madness instead away with their swords and bows drawn. There was chaos; people stampeding through the streets and into the alleyway the group Assassins had resided not moments before. Panic was in everybody's eyes and sound of hooves clattering skittishly across the ground did not help to calm anybody.

It was the sound of an Assassination.

Another Assassin landed almost silently next to the group of five and stared at the scene. Guards were searching for the hooded figure on the ground and on the rooftops. Crouching on the edge of the balcony area, the young Assassin efficiently takes in all the details of the area in the retreating sunlight. Swinging around, the newest Assassin's elbow accidently knocks straight into the youngest Assassin's face, causing him to yelp and push the Assassin off the edge of the balcony onto the steeply slanted tiles.

The Assassin attempts to catch itself on one of the shingles or the edge, but instead falls two stories onto the street with an ungraceful 'thud'. A sharp guard hears the noise immediately and points it out to all the others. Quickly, the Assassin pulls out its sword and gets to work fighting against the small group of guards.

Up on the balcony, Malik reaches for his dagger and moves to help the other Assassin on the ground. The Assassin that had been leading him puts his hand on the other's shoulders and says one simple word:

"No."

With a deep release of breath, Malik sheathes his dagger and steps back to watch the scene in front of him unfurl on the sidelines.

The Assassin on the ground is hacking away at the guards with a wild grace. All of the Assassin's movements are of a dancer's; as if putting on a performance for a crowd instead of a fighting for another day living. However, the Assassin didn't notice one of the guards break off from the group and take off running back around the corner. Just as the last soldier fell to the Assassin's fast blade, the last soldier disappeared from sight.

With an Assassin's intuition, the Assassin took off blindly after the soldier, only to quickly turn heel and lunging up the building across the balcony. A group of horses and riders round the corner at breakneck speeds; practically trampling the Assassin; in the middle of them is a wiry man with extravagant robes swirling around him, surrounding him are the city's best guards. They all push their horses as fast as possible in the straight away. None of them see the Assassin striding easily above them; freerunning across the rooftops parallel to the horses. None of them see the slight glint of a dagger in the fading light. None of them see as the figure jumps off the roof straight onto the horse in the middle of the herd.

None of them see the dagger plunge into the rich man's heart.

None of them see the Assassin – Until it was too late, of course.

They could only watch in shock as the Assassin bounded across another horse and up onto the building before sprinting across the skyline into the sunset. The group watching was silent; each taking in what just happened.

It was the Assassin that led them to the balcony that recovered first. He jumped over the edge and onto the street a few minutes later. The group of Assassins begrudgingly followed; blending back into the dark and heading onto the outskirts of the other side of town: closer to the bureau. The people thinned out and a lull soon surrounded the area, giving a sense of power that came with the presence of most Assassins.

Sitting casually on the ground, picking flowers and braiding them into a simple wreath was the Assassin from earlier.

For the second time that night, the leading Assassin spoke, "Anima," he addressed the Assassin formally. The Assassin looked up from the flowers but didn't move, so the man continued, "We saw your Assassination tonight, you did well. Master will be content with your work." After finishing his sentence, he stepped forward and removed his hood revealing a man in his early twenties with light brown hair and dark eyes.

The sitting Assassin rose too and mimicked the man's actions; revealing her face.

The group of men from the North gasped in shock.

The Assassin was clearly female with Swedish blonde hair, pale grey eyes, fair skin, rounded and delicate facial features, and a petite stature – she had looked taller from far away.

"What is the meaning of this?" Altaïr snarled.

The young man cautiously glanced at the tall and muscular Assassin, "This is one of our Assassins, Anima."

The young girl bowed her head in respect before directly meeting Al Mualim's eyes, "Pleased to make the acquaintance. Master spoke highly of you and all of us were anticipating your visit. I'm sorry for catching you unaware of my… status." She chose her words carefully; grey eyes flickering uneasily between the seething Assassins.

The young man stepped up and cleared his throat, "And you may call me Raan*****." Slowly, the visiting Assassins dragged their eyes from the small girl and acknowledged the other.

Anima turned towards the old path at the base of the mountain and started walking. After moving a couple steps she called over her shoulder, "Come, it's getting late and I'm sure you are hungry and tired. I know that I am." She smiled slightly before continuing up the road, not waiting for any reply.

Sure enough, they followed.

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**A/N: **So? _Too long or too short_? (heh, heh) **Critiques **would be nice. Thank you for your support!

***Raan ****–**pronounced: Ron


	3. Chapter Two: In Their Eyes

**SOOO sorry I updated late. My computer crashed. -_-**

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**Disclaimer: **I don't own Assassin's Creed.

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**Warning: **This chapter is **self-beta'd**

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**Anima: **  
_Sanskrit = _Indefinite smallness/ invisible  
_Hindi = _Petite/ Especially feminine figure  
_Latin = _Spirit, passion, anger, mind  
_Greek = _Soul

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**Chapter Two: In Their Eyes**

**3****rd**** person POV**

Though the girl went to bed immediately after returning to the thriving and spacious bureau, the men went straight to the Master's office.

Al Mualim burst through the door to a placid leader of the Georgia Assassins. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Meaning of what, brother?"

"A woman! In the Creed!"

"Ahh…" the other man chuckled, "Anima. What of her?"

"She's a woman. In the Creed! Don't make me restate myself." Al Mualim raged.

The Master raised an eyebrow and glanced at the three other men, Raan had long since left, each had a defensive stance. He let out a deep breath and motioned for everyone to sit down before taking a seat himself. "As far as I see it brother, she is as good as an Assassin as all the boys… maybe even better."

"Are you suggesting that a _woman _is better than a _man?" _Kinja, the youngest of the group, stated incredulity.

"Yes, child. That is exactly what I'm saying. She's one of the best here for her age and has worked twice as hard as everyone here to earn her place. If she keeps doing her job correctly and efficiently, she can stay. I hold her to the same standards as the men and she meets them all, therefore she keeps her place."

"But- the Creed!" Al Mualim stuttered.

"The Creed says nothing against woman joining." The Master defended before continuing. "Now, I suggest you rest, tomorrow will be a long day."

**Anima's POV (YAY!)**

She collapsed heavily into bed, enjoying the feel of relaxation – the Assassination hadn't quite gone as planned and she was just glad to be done with it. Her mind flashed back to the mission – it was simple: Get in, kill the target, get out.

_She crept silently along the rooftops towards the meeting. People crowded all around and the guards were on high alert. Nothing but the best of the best was being presented; the party was for the elite. The host was a wiry and corrupt man known as Raylof. He'd been a part of the illegal slave trade market for multiple years now and was overly cautious making him nearly impossible to get a hold of:_

_Until now._

_One mistake; one slip up was all it took to have the Assassins on his tail like a wolf over fresh blood. He made the mistake of going out in public. _

_All of the young boys and girls he raped and sold and beat to death. Hundreds – if not thousands – of innocent deaths were strewn about his path. He put a price on a person and killed those he deemed worthless. He shoved innocents onto boats where they either survived the journey or died. He was a mass murderer, but nobody noticed._

_He was untouchable for most of his life. _

_He deserved to die. _

_I smirked to myself. That is what being an Assassin is about: revenge. Not about what was right or wrong, not about the good and the evil. It was about balance – and just as the bad can't outweigh the good, the good can't outweigh the bad. What most people didn't realize when wanting Raylof dead was that he pumped all of Georgia full of money he makes off his slave trade; without him financially covering up his tracks and dead, lots of good foundations he used to gain good reputation will go out of business. People will go in debt. All of Georgia would feel the impact. _

_They would lose a supposedly 'generous' man. _

_They would also lose a source of income._

_But they'd also save lives. 'Cause everybody knows that it doesn't matter _how _you live as long as it's a morally correct life. Most of the woman released after his death would go to a whore house anyways; the men would become thieves._

_One man's death would tip the scales, for better or worse. One thing was for certain though: he deserved to die. Killing him would be justifying the lives he stole. One life for thousands – that's the way the price for people goes, not by money, but by revenge._

_Sneaking up onto the walls, a quick and accurate knife to an archer's neck silenced him before he could alarm anybody. Silently, I dropped onto the ground and moved amongst the party-goers. I allowed myself to slip in and out of groups, be jostled around, smiled at jokes, and snuck through the crowd. A large pillar soon appeared next to me. I hid from watching eyes behind it and scouted out my target._

_There: At the head of the table. _

_Figures. _

_I took a moment to assess his security: it was solid. There was no way I could get within twenty feet of him without alerting a guard and getting killed. However, there was a beam above his head; if I could somehow climb on the roof and onto that, I could air assassinate him._

_But then I'd be surrounded by guards._

_Perhaps I could jump onto the table and sprint?_

_No – too many archers. The second I made myself known, I would be an easy target._

_Poison? Perhaps… maybe if I just paid off one of the slaves he kept here – surely their vengeance would be enough to willingly poison him? I looked around the table. Soon enough I spotted an immoderately dressed woman with a clear brand on her forearm: a slave under the property of Raylof. She would do – and judging by the scowl on her face, she wouldn't take much persuasion._

_Again, I slipped into the crowd and approached the girl, fingering a vial of poison in mu robes. She stood obediently next to the fountain of wine; pouring and holding out cups for the guests. When I got the chance, I covered her mouth and pulled her underneath a shadowy overhang._

"_Shut up! I'm not here to hurt you!" I hissed at her. Once she realized that I was female she relaxed a little. I loosened my grip some before speaking lowly in her ear again, "How much hate do you harbor for Sir Raylof?" I uncovered her mouth._

"_I want him dead." She sneered at the figure._

"_Good. Then here's what you're going to do: Take this poison, pour it in the wine, give the wine to him, and disappear before he knows what is going on. Do you understand?"_

_She grinned evilly, "And what do I get in return."_

"_I will give you 200 gold right now to see it completed. If you don't, I will kill you in the most painful way possible." I growled at her._

"_Let me see the coin and poison." She hissed._

_I set both in her palm. "Don't disappoint me." I looked her straight in the eye before climbing up the wall and watching the scene from above._

_Just as she said she would, the girl poisoned the wine before giving it to Raylof. He smiled flirtatiously at her and I felt sickened. Just as he was about to sip his wine, a woman came up from behind him and plucked the glass out of his hands. I recognized her almost immediately: it was his wife, a cruel and loose woman._

_Without even hesitating she took the whole glass of wine and chugged it; almost immediately becoming tipsy._

Oh shoot, _Was my only thought. Not only was the wife going to drop dead within the next minute, but there was no way I could Assassinate Raylof and fight through the guards. So, I did what most people do when a plan goes incredibly wrong: I high tailed it out of there. _

_I found myself on the main street within a moment. Just as I slowed down to a walk, people started screaming and footsteps could be heard coming my way. Risking a glance behind me, I took note that there was a mixture between half pedestrians, half guards, running down the road about to trample me. Using my peripherals, I quickly caught sight of Raan, another Assassin and a close friend, in a balcony up above. Scaling the wall, I hopped into the secluded area and watched the scene play out. By now all of the guards had evacuated the civilians and were looking for an Assassin, most likely me. I turned around to ask Raan a question when my elbow slammed into one of the other Assassin's in my little hideout. He let out a grunt and shoved me back; quickly becoming defensive._

_I wasn't expecting it, so I rolled onto the roof. It was steep and I struggled to catch a grip, any grip. Instead I fell and hit the ground, which a guard heard. A small group of them came towards me with swords drawn, I pulled out my own and prepared to fight. After a couple minutes all of them were down, but one got away upon a second glance._

_Not wanting anybody to give away my location, I took off in the most likely direction he would go: back to the party area. The moment I rounded the corner, I froze dead in my tracks before running back into the main street and up the side of the shadowed building._

_I let out a deep breath when the horse missed me by a foot. I had practically been stampeded by a group of guards. Pulling myself onto the top of the roof I sprinted as hard as I could alongside the herd. In the middle of them was my target._

_It was a stupid, risky move, but I had to take it. One deep breath, two deep breaths, three deep breaths, and then I was airborne with my dagger ready to pierce Raylof's throat. I landed jarringly on his horse and stuck the dagger into his neck before using another horse's dock as a stepping stone and sprinting into the shadows. _

_A couple buildings away, I clambered up onto the roof and started towards the meeting point at the base of the bureau headquarters._

I sighed to myself. It had been a long day.

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**A/N: **I can't tell if I like this chapter or not.

Again, this was **self-beta'd. **Anybody willing to help, PM me!


	4. Chapter Three: Irony

**Disclaimer: **I claim no ownership of Assassin's Creed

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**Warning: **This chapter is **self-beta'd**

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_We crawl on our knees for you,  
Under a sky no longer blue,  
We sweat all day long for you.  
But now we sow seeds to see us through,  
'Cause sometimes dreams just don't come true,  
Look now at what they've done to you._

"Re-Education Through Labor" by: Rise Against

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**Chapter Three: Irony**

**3****rd**** Person POV – 1 week later**

The female assassin strode casually towards The Mentor's office, thinking about the group of four assassins that arrived earlier that week. She hadn't seen much of them, except from a distance or in passing. Even then, they didn't say much to her. Actually – they didn't say anything at all. Instead they carried on as if she didn't even exist – completely ignoring her greetings and presence in general. She'd heard rumors of females being treated badly farther North… she just didn't believe it was to this extent. Sure, in this country woman weren't equal to men, but even then they were held in at least some reguard.

So, even when the four treated her rudely, she just passed it off as part of their culture and moved along.

The young Assassin girl skipped into The Mentors office, smiling. All four Assassin's that she'd been thinking of were sitting in a circle already and were now staring at her with intense glairs, though the ones called Altaïr and Malik's were by far the worst. She shifted uneasily before confronting The Mentor.

"The mission was a success, sir." She announced evenly.

"Ah. That's good. I was just beginning a meeting. Please stay and listen to it?" The Mentor asked; his sharp eyes boring into hers.

She dipped her head in respect. "Of course." She chose a chair away from the others, near the window and listened patiently.

"Now, It's come to my attention that the church has been and still is taking most of the money from the public unwillingly. They are sending trained guards to kidnap any person who doesn't fund the church and beat them until they cough up the money. Not only that, but the money isn't actually going to the church itself. Instead the money is being used to make armor for the upcoming war. It seems that the church had decided to fight the Assassins instead of assisting us." The Mentor looked around the room.

The Assassin girl snorted, "The irony is killing me."

The four Assassins looked at her with confused expressions, but The Mentor smiled slightly before continuing on, "Now, I've narrowed our targets down to four men."

"Only four? I'm impressed." Al Mualim jibed.

"The first is a priested named Afzal. He is the one who collects money from the sermons and keeps the logs. If you don't pay up – he knows. He also chooses the bodies to take money from. He keeps the books on him at all times. He has a sharp eye and can practically smell money. Of course, he grew up in the money world. His investments are impeccable and he knows how to throw his weight around. If we can cut off all of his contacts, then kill him, it will help cripple the other three."

"What does he look like?" Kinja asked.

"Nose so high up in the air that he might as well be looking at the sky, mousy brown hair that's going grey, ramrod skinny, pale. Demented. Creepy. You know, the usual." I answered.

"Next is a man called Kylal. Through the church, he accesses tax money and spends it for himself and his own personal army. Practically every guard you see is funded by him and working for him, though not commanded by him. He is and ex-mercenary that has supposedly found his calling. The third man will be the hardest to kill: Jacques Amadieu. He's the brains of the operation and the right hand man of the group. He covers the tracks and gets rid of all evidence. He also plans everything. The man's got a sixth sense for danger and can spot a threat on the horizon any day. He also had war experience. He's not only one of the commanders of the army, but he's easily the richest man in Georgia since Raylof's death. Last is Trystan Valéry. He's also rich and powerful. He has an army back in France and heavy ties to noble blood. He hand chooses every person that walks through the church doors, conducts the sermons, and assigns the guards to the church."

"If we can pick off his soldiers on the outskirts of town outside the church's power, we might be able to force Trystan to spread his forces thinner. The farther away from the church's influence, the easier they'll be to question and kill, right? If not that, we can at least attempt to get our hands on some of the captains. If the leaders die and there is no one to give orders, he'll have to recruit less trained soldiers to give commands. They'll figure out our killing pattern and become paranoid about taking charge. It will give us the upper hand in battle when they are being led by inexperienced soldiers." The girl suggested.

"Yes, but instead of replacing the leaders, he'll just bring more soldiers in and make them into bigger groups, making it harder to fight."

"Well what about their rations? If we can cut off a couple of their caravans they might starve or have an uprising?" Kinja asked.

The girl shook her head, "No. If they lose their supplies, they take what they lost from the villagers – no matter how old or how poor. That is something that we cannot afford."

Malik nodded in agreement, "Very true. I do believe that if we can somehow scout out the church and find their plans, we may be able to beat them from the inside out."

"The church is attracted to the money. Perhaps buying our way in would be safer." Al Mualim suggested.

"That's would cost an arm and a leg, though." The girl muttered.

Kinja glanced at her wearily, "They cut off your arm and leg? I didn't see any cripples when entering the city… perhaps they were all in the church already?"

The Mentor laughed, "No child, it's just a saying. To cost an arm and a leg is saying the same thing as costing an extravagant amount of coin."

The boy's eyes widened in realization before nodding slowly.

"So then which are we doing?" Altaïr finally questioned.

The Mentor glanced at Al Mualim then sighed, "We'll have to sneak in. There is no way we can buy in."

"Again with the irony. Really, at this rate you might as well carry your own wood into the church and start a fire." The female Assassin commented dryly.

This time the Mentor glared at her. "That is not appropriate, Anima."

"But it's true." She pointed out casually.

The Mentor let out an exasperated breath before dismissing everybody with a wave of his hand.

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**A/N: **I know, I know… it was shorter than the others. I don't know if I like this chapter or not. The ending kinda makes me uneasy, but I suppose that if I stick to the plotline chapter by chapter it will smooth out.


	5. Chapter Four: Thankless Jobs

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Assassin's Creed.

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**Warning: **This chapter is **self-beta'd. **

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_I tried to help you once,  
Against my own advice,  
I saw you going down,  
But you never realized,  
That you're drowning in the water,  
So I offered you my hand,  
Compassion's in my nature,  
Tonight is our last stand._

_I tear my heart open, I sew myself shut,  
My weakness is that I care too much.  
And my scars remind me that the past is real,  
I tear my heart open just to feel._

"Scars" by: Papa Roach

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**Chapter Four: Thankless Jobs**

**Anima's POV**

I exited the meeting room last, still thinking about the strange turn of events. This was supposed to be a peaceful and safe place. The Assassins made sure of that. Now, there was turmoil everywhere we looked and The Assassins had more missions than ever. We were actually busy for once.

A swirl of white robes caught my attention. I recognized them as the Assassin Altaïr's. Though he had been here for over a week, she'd never once seen him when she was about. Without thinking, I quietly followed him down the hall. He seemed deep in thought and probably wasn't paying complete attention. Anima smirked to herself. Had he been a novice, she could've tackled him and then called it a lesson in always being aware of your surroundings. Of course, there was no doubt the Altaïr was one of the best Assassin's there was – at least by The Mentor's and Al Mualim's and pretty much everybody who dueled him in the arena's standards. Still, she wasn't exactly about to pick a fight with him. But, she had a sinking suspicion that his arrogance and young age would be his falling.

I followed him out of the bureau and made sure to glide carefully in and out of stalls on the ground. When Altaïr jumped onto the roofs, I decided to stay in the streets. Silently, I moved through the alleyways and hopped between shadows. He didn't move quickly or in a specific direction. The large Assassin male even came to a dead end multiple times which lead her to believe he hadn't explored this part of the city yet or truly wasn't paying attention to where he was going. Then again, this was a safer part of town where little crime happened and people were rarely talked about; your average middle class.

I sucked in a breath and dove behind a crowd of people when Altaïr suddenly hopped off the roof five feet in front of her. For the first time in a while, I wished I was in a dress. Instead I was dressed in a tunic and pants – men's clothes, so I stuck out like a sore thumb, but not as much as when she was dressed in her Assassin's attire. I allowed herself to relax my pace and follow multiple feet behind the Assassin man. He towered over all the people there by between a half a head and a head, so his pristine white hood was incredibly easy to spot.

He rounded the corner and I lost sight of him for a moment. When I turned the corner, he was gone.

Confused, I looked around. Some boys ran past, giggling. I was on the bridge near the lake, nobody was about. Perhaps he decided to go swimming? It was a cooler day, but the idea wasn't unreasonable.

Sticking my head over the bridge, I looked into the water.

Nothing. Getting a bad feeling in her gut, I crossed the bridge and checked the other side. There, water was churning violently, but no person could be seen. It finally clicked:

He was drowning!

I threw herself over the edge; plunging into the cold water without a second thought. I forced my eyes open in the murky water; silt stung my eyes and the cold made my muscles tense up slightly. It took a moment, but I finally caught sight of a sinking figure about twelve feet under water. Slowly, I went back up for air before propelling myself downwards to help the struggling Assassin. When I reached him, he immediately clung onto me in blind panic, dragging them both down.

_His_ panic made _me_ panic and for a moment, I was frozen with fear; now what? Then, I felt my survival instincts kicked in and I started using my legs to kick themselves upwards towards air. I kept one arm wrapped securely around Altaïr's midsection and used the other to help swim. I tried to keep my kicks swift and powerful, but I occasionally clipped Altaïr's legs. My lungs burned and I wasn't getting anywhere. If anything, I was just being dragged down by Altaïr's weight.

_Weight… wait! His armor! It's too heavy! _I thought to herself.

Feeling bad for a moment, I forced myself to let go of the still struggling Arabian man to get air. He grasped meekly at me, but I swum up too fast. Taking in a lungful of sweet air, I dived down again: this time with a plan.

Starting with his chest plate, I undid the straps with adrenaline fueled accuracy. Next were his gauntlets. After that, I winced when his hidden blade fell away; they were usually custom made and designed for each Assassin – they were our prized possessions. I forced myself to take off the greaves, and the vambraces, and lastly the spaulders. I even considered taking his boots off, but by then O was getting dizzy and we had reached the bottom of the twenty foot lake; far deeper than I was used to swimming.

With a quick prayer to God, hoping that he didn't get offended by my comment(s) earlier, I bunched my muscles and pushed up towards the top of the lake. My muscles felt like jelly, my lungs burned, my vision was going blurry – I had been under water for about four minutes. Altaïr had been for around six. We couldn't stay conscious that much longer. As a matter of fact, she was impressed that Altaïr was still responsive and somewhat sane with that little oxygen left.

It was like two steps forward and one back. Perhaps the words strokes would be more accurate. His weight was dragging me down. Suddenly, we both sunk five feet rapidly. We both tensed. By now Altaïr had taken to holding my midsection with both arms in a bone-crushing embrace that didn't help my air capacity and flailing his legs in an extremely unhelpful manner, but at least I had both arms to swim.

Bubbles came out of my nose. I needed air quickly and couldn't escape Altaïr's grip to get any. I gritted my teeth and made one last desperate pull. It felt as if my muscles were about to snap under the pressure, but then broke the surface. Quickly drawing air, I pushed Altaïr up. He quickly sucked in all the oxygen he could before I started awkwardly pulling him towards the shore another twenty feet away.

By now I was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to go to sleep. My head was swimming and I was perfectly willing to just allow myself to drown, but a spazzing out Assassin kept me perfectly awake as I pulled both of us to shore – multiple times sinking under water from his weight and him clinging onto me.

When he was finally able to stand up at about the six foot mark, he went to lunge forward towards land. His elbow caught me in the ribs, causing her to get the wind knocked out of me. I heaved for a moment while treading, Altaïr still clinging to me even though he could stand, the water a little bit under his chin. After a moment of me sucking wind and him standing perfectly still plus supporting some of my weight, I continued moving towards shore. Then the tables turned and _he _dragged _me _ungracefully to shore. Once on the muddy bank I wheeled around and pounded the large Assassin on the back as hard as possible.

He caught my hand with a glare.

"Cough." I ordered.

He kept glaring at me.

I rolled my eyes, "Cough." Then I coughed myself as an example.

Again he didn't comply.

So, I decided a different method. "Water could've gotten in your lungs. If that happened, even if you don't feel it now, you will most likely drown in your sleep…" I paused for a moment before glaring at him in return, "And I did _not _just sacrifice my ass to save your sorry hide just for you to die from drowning in your own bed. So here's how it's going to go: you can start hacking up a lung here, or I can drag you to the medical ward and explain this whole situation there before they _force _the water out of your lungs."

A snarl from him. Some devious part of my brain turned on: his hood was down, allowing me to take in his features: a strong, sharp, masculine jaw that was perfectly shaved. He had an aquiline nose that was almost like an aristocrat's and defined cheekbones that gave him a sharp appearance. His lips were full with a pouty lower lip and a feminine cupid's brow – they were deadly, those lips. His hair was short and hung slightly over his forehead. His eyebrows were delicate and portrayed emotion effortlessly – though were usually furrowed or arched up. Finally his eyes: oh, his eyes. As if his lips and his jaw line wasn't enough to drive any woman insane. They were molten gold; metallic and all-seeing. They had every emotion in them, yet nothing. They pinned me to the ground and took my breath away more than getting elbowed in the ribs or drowning.

He raised an eyebrow at me, but otherwise still glared. He probably noticed me shamelessly checking him out.

"I'm still waiting for you to make your decision." I stated coolly, not allowing him to phase me and meeting his eyes to the best of my extent.

With a skyward glance and a deep inhaling of breath, he did what I told him to do and glared at me as he started hacking up water. I kept my 'I told you so' smirk off my face because something said that he would kill me if I made any notion of being better than him what-so-ever.

Instead I sighed and looked into the water. "It's no use retrieving your armor. It's as good as gone now… the undercurrent probably swept it off somewhere." He freezes before turning to look at me; if he looked intimidating before, he looked like the devil himself now; murderous and cruel eyes flashing, lips curled back into a feral snarl, hands flexing. I cleared my throat somewhat and forced myself to look in his eyes even though I wanted to piss myself. I was positive that my fear showed through my supposedly _fear_less façade, but I refused to submit. "It was too heavy, I couldn't save you with it on…" I trailed off lamely, losing my confidence more and more by the second. I felt my shoulders and head drop, along with my eyes. I don't know what I was more ashamed about; the fact that I failed to complete whatever twisted mission this was completely or that I was sorry and acting vulnerable after saving this man's life.

My eyes flickered to the lake. A wave of white hot pain across my cheek jerked my face back to the tall Assassin's. There, his hand still up and poised to hit me again, was a severely un-amused Altaïr.

I wanted nothing more than to hit him back twice as hard. My fingers itched, my head pounded, my cheek throbbed, I could taste blood in my mouth, I was seeing red, and my hands were shaking in effort to not lose my temper. Instead I took the higher route and instead closed my eyes and controlled my breathing. I was not going to let him get the better of me.

When I opened my eyes, all I could see was him retreating.

I touched my cheek tenderly before dropping my head and shuffling as slowly as possible to The Mentor's office to get this sorted out.

It was a damn long day.

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**A/N: **Review please? It can be as simple as one word, or as long as you want. I just really enjoy the encouragement. I'll also take critiques too. I take critiques very well (as long as they're not outright flames). **SUPER-RIDICULOUSLY proud of this chapter. **

**Questions? PM me!**


	6. Chapter Five: Assassin's Don't Retreat

**Beta note: I'll put all my changes in bold so they're easier to spot :)**

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**Disclaimer: **I don't own Assassin's Creed.

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**WARNING: **(_**Minor**_ **spoiler** _in this note_/ _chapter_ – deal with it people.) I haven't really played Assassin's Creed I, but I know that Ezio gets Altaïr's armor in Assassin's Creed II. So, I decided that this is how he got his armor. I also call the Levantine Assassin's Arabians – do I know if this is correct? No. They could be damn near anything, and I really don't know. Plus, Altaïr doesn't have parents and they look from that general area (I think – I'm _really _bad at geography). **Minor language, minor spoilers. **I'm pretty sure that's it.

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**HUGE THANKS **to my beta, **Believe In Fairy Tales.**

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_So this is the life they talked about  
This is the I can't live without  
When the real world crashes down  
Oh if they could see me now  
When all the dreams are all your own  
Turn to nightmares all alone  
It hits you right between the eyes  
This is the life  
This is the life_

"The Life" by: Hinder

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**Chapter Five: Assassins Don't Retreat, They Descend **

***Anima's POV***

The walk down the hallway to the Mentor's office had never been more agonizing… not even when I hadcompletely screwed up my mission when I was first starting out. The large doors loomed ominously in front of me, screaming out my impending doom. I gulped and stared at the doors. When they swung open, I jumped about a foot in the air with a girlish shriek.

The Mentor raised an eyebrow. "Anima! To what do I owe this pleasure?"

I glanced at the ceiling, then at the tapestry on the wall. "Um. You know Altaïr? Well, through a series of… unfortunate… events," I took a deep breath, and the rest of my sentence came out in a jumbled rush, "hisarmorendedupintheriver."

"What was that?"

"His armor – it ended up in the river." I forced myself to repeat slower, my expression sheepish.

The Mentor released a deep breath and chuckled, "Do I even want to know how?" I glanced into his eyes - they sparkled with amusement.

"No, not really."I paused before continuing. "Anyways, since I was involved, I wanted to replace his armor for him. It only seems fair."

"Then I suppose you should find work outside of the Creed to acquire funds, yes?"

I felt some slight apprehension. More work. "Of course. Thank you for your understanding." I bowed my head in respect before trudging away.

***(Still) Anima's POV***

Three weeks. It had been three weeks of outside work - plus Assassinationmissions. It was miserable work. Miserable I tell you! I was exhausted. I ended up having to help with chores for not only the town doctor, but also the blacksmith to get a meager discount on the weapons and armor. By the end of it, I was so sick of working I decided to waste my savings just to get the damned armor. And I, being the guilt-riddled perfectionist, decided on nothing but the best for that damned drowned assassin.

Damn my kindness. Nothing but the best gifts, of course.

Maybe I could give him the money and he could just get the damned armor for himself, since I saved his sorry ass. But _noooo_. The shame I felt from casting his armor into the river made me feel obligated to give it to him myself. I walked down the hallway, sulking internally and cursing my stupidity out. Thesound of voices caused me to look up from my self-berating. Lo and behold, Altaïr and company were striding stiffly down the corridor. The tall Arabian man with thegolden eyes led proudly, closely followed by Al Mualim and whatever other allies hadaccompaniedhim from Masyaf. The only good thing about the situation was that Altaïr was exactly who I was looking for. I took a deep breath and stood in the middle of the hallway with my back straight, arms crossed, and my chin held high.

Of course, the entire assassin group had their hoods up and none met my gaze. Instead, they remained aloof and _shoved _right past me – like I was a door to barrel through at will. I gnashed my teeth together in irritation, but refused to show any anger because I was a nice, calm, happy, somewhat sane person - not a rudebastard like all the others.

What can I say? I'm rebellious; I refuse to conform with others.

"Altaïr." I called out while turning towards the retreating group. Oh, I'm sorry - Levantine assassins don't retreat. They _descend. _My mistake.

Said assassin turned slightly. Well, more liked inclined his head over his shoulder and paused mid-step for a moment. I couldn't help but wince slightly as my trained eye caught sight of the replacement armor he wore – it fit him awkwardly, definitely not as well as his original. Assassins had been trained to take in weak points within seconds, and this armor was definitely had its weak spots. It was slightly tight around his shoulders, hindering his movement. It looked completely out of place on him.

"I need to talk to you when you're done." I attempted to make eye contact, but failed. My nose scrunched up in distaste at his rigid posture**, **literally radiating hostility, "Find me."

He didn't even nod - just turned around, squared his shoulders, and continued retrea– _descending. _

I wandered around the town outside the main bureau aimlessly for a few hours. It worried me that around the edges of town, poverty and distress were becoming more apparent. These were hard times, and the men that supposedlyput the money into the land stole more than they gave; it wasa vicious cycle that left the middle and lower classes to compensate for the mysterious economical loss. I almost wanted to tell them that it would be okay, that the assassins were on the job and doing their best to help, but they hardly called the 'dealers of death' allies.

Everything was faded and dusty. The cost of living had gone up. Buildings were run down and people were weary. Of course, the rich and extravagant would tell you that the town was flourishing. And if it wasn't, they would say that they'd give more money willingly - purely out of the goodness of their hearts. The people of the town wouldn't accept money from the assassins - they assumed that we would corrupt them and assume something in return**. **The metallic tang of the irony hung thickly in the air.

Or maybe it was just thesmell of blood.

A weak tug on my gauntlet snapped me out of my thoughts. I glanced down at a young child pulling at my armor. I couldn't help but allow a smile to form on my face - the people in the town did not converse with assassins; our existence was ignored, whether it be us scaling up a wall, jumping off a roof, or emerging from the river in full armor. We were invisible to them. They did not make eye contact with us, let alone look upon us. Civilians gave us awide berth when they passed us by. We were considered the lowest class in the town, though we were among the richest and most powerful.

"Hello." I said softly to the girl. I could see the hint of fear in her doe eyes **-** The Mentor liked it that way. He said that civilians respected and feared us, just as it should be. Though, I never believed that protectors should be feared - we should be accepting and welcoming. The Mentor never left the bureau to see the graffiti on the walls slandering assassins, or knew how sometimes the people spat on our feet when they were feelingbrave, before being whisked back into the thick crowds – that was the only time they acknowledged us as all.

"Money please?" She held her hands out in a begging manner, her expression pleading.

"Of course." I kept my tone gentle and dug through my pouch, giving her a few coins.

"Thank you, Miss Assassin. Gods bless you." She smiled widely.

I couldn't help but laugh, "And the same to you, child." I chuckled as she ran off.

"Bold girl. She needs to learn her place." A voice behind me came from the overhanging rooftop. I whirled around and grabbed a throwing knife on instinct, hurling it at the source of the noise.

My eyes searched the rooftop for the intruder, until my gaze fell upon Altair perched on the overhang. His expression was unreadable. He twirledmy throwing knife between his fingers absent-mindedly.

_How in the Lord's name did he catch that?_ I tried to contain my surprise.I wasn't sure to be relieved I hadn't harmed a fellow assassin, or pissed that not only did he not get injured, but he made my infamous knife-throwing skills look like I was tossing him a ball in the streets like a child.

I wanted to make a sharp comment, but I held my tongue. Instead I chose my words carefully and forced them out through gritted teeth, "I… regret… having thrown your armor in the river. My actions have… hindered… your work here and caused you some inconvenience." I paused, "If you could please follow me. I wish to make amends."

Without waiting for a reply, I spun on my heel and made my way into town. Much to my surprise, Altaïr walked right beside me. I frowned - he was slightly in front of me, as if he was leading _me_ through the crowd. I snapped irritably, "Is that some dominance thing – walking in front of me?"

Instead of answering, he quickened his pace and kept in front of me – as if proving a point**.**

"Well, this isn't your culture." I sneered.

Before I knew it, I was pinned against a wall with Altaïr's forearm pressed roughly against my throat.

"I will not be treated with such disrespect, novice." The icy tone in his voice and the molten glare in his eyes made me light-headed. Though, my head being slammed into a wall and asudden lack of oxygen might have added fuel to that fire.

"Respect is earned, not given!" I spat. "And I'm a _mercenary_ dammit, a rank eight. Not some worthless _novice!_"

I was seething, the angry words tumbling from my mouth. I couldn't stop myself, even as I noticed the murderous look in his golden wasn't like he was going to kill a fellow assassin, even if he looked about ready to… Right?

Again, he snarled menacingly. My world was starting to turn grey around the edges, and I finally decided to take action before I passed out.

I kneed him. In the groin. _Hard_. Hishold on my throat loosened as he staggered away. I wiggled out of his grip and started making my way towards myprevious destination. I was still furious about the slap across the face he had given me at the river, and now all of this. I continued along towards my destination. Five minutes later I arrived. I sighed and scanned my immediate area. Understandably, Altaïr wasn't anywhere to be found.

I let out a deep sigh. The last thing I wanted was to go searching for him again.

"Well?" His voice suddenlycame from directly behind me. Just like before I whirled around, senses on red alert. Somehow, he hadmanaged to sneak up behind me again, making me seem like a complete novice… _again! _I almost considered asking him how he did it, but my pride got in the way.

Instead, I scowled at him andgestured towards the blacksmith's behind mebefore heading inside.

"Ah, Anima. I'm assuming your taking the fitting today? Did you bring him along?" The blacksmith questioned jovially. He had been loyal to the Brotherhood ever since his brother had joined the ranks of assassins, but had never had the will to join the Creed himself. So he had taken to the forge, instead.

"Yes. Here." I gestured towards Altaïr, my tone clipped in annoyance.

The blacksmith looked him up and down with a skilled eye. "I'll just have to make some minor adjustments…" he mumbled under his breath, more to himself than anyone else in the room. "If you could, ah, just remove your armor so I can get the other pieces fitted?" he asked Altair tentatively.

Slowly, Altaïr complied and I retreated from the room. I re-entered a few minutes later, heading to the back room where the blacksmith was making a few adjustments to the armor.

"I couldn't make the hidden blade for him since I didn't have the measurements. I will give you a refund for it, I'm sorry." The blacksmith apologized.

I nodded in understanding, "Keep the money. Thank you for your hard work - this is the best armor possible, right?" I eyed the armor with a tinge of jealousy.

"Yes, yes. It's lightweight, practically impossible to damage; the best armor in the country, which includes the Levantine bureau too."

I nodded in satisfaction.

I waited outside while Altair fitted the armor on. When he was finished, I took in the shining silver metal on top of his stark black assassin's robes. Despite all of my irritation with the man, a small voice in my head was telling me that it had been the right thing to do_. _Which really didn't help make me feel any better. That was, until I realized that _Altaïr wouldn't do the same thing. No other Assassin would've gone this far to make an apology. _

With that, I smirked. Mostly because I was happy that I would've done the exact opposite of what Altaïr would've done. Especially since all the other assassins here seemed to think that they should mimic everything he does, like he had the sun shining out of his ass or something.

Altair removed the armor again andthe blacksmith wrapped it in a soft cloth to hide the shine of the metal and provide extra resistance to attack. When he was done, the blacksmithmotioned me into the fitting area. I stepped in and he handed me the armor. I cast an appreciative eye over it** - **I had to admit, it suited Altair quite nicely.

"Do you like it?" The blacksmith asked. I shot him a glare. He looked confused before opening his mouth again, "Miss Anima here chose the pieces and colors herself."

Altaïr turned towards me. Perhaps I shouldn't have given him the armor; he looked about ten times angrier than before… the kind of angry that makes people soil themselves involuntarily. "The robes are black."

Oh, that stung. Instead of snapping a retort**,** I smiled lightly, "I thought the black matched the color of your soul. If it's that big of a deal, I'll get the cloths dyed back to Assassin's White for you later."

"I don't want it." He sneered at me.

Oh _hell _no. "Keep it. Whether you use it or not is your own choice. I already paid for it, anyway."

Again, I made my retreat, fuming. No, I'm sorry - _descending._

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**Your reviews give me the heart to keep writing. Thank you so much to whoever reviewed! **

Again, big thanks to my beta, _Believe In Fairy Tales. _


	7. Chapter Six: Disciples Are Idiots

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Assassin's Creed.

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**Warning: **Nothing really. Sorry it's a little late.

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**!CHECK THIS SONG OUT! – I'm dead serious! **

_Here in the spotlight, this moment is ours,  
No one can stop us, we're one with the stars._

_ Quiet by nature, standing tall,  
Old stone circles, they have seen it all,  
Caught like a ghost in yesterday,  
Shadows down the hall,  
Are locked within the crystal ball._

_Fire and water, earth and sky,  
Mysteries surround us, legends never die,  
They live for the moment, lost in time,  
I can hear them call,  
They're locked within the crystal ball._

"Locked Within the Crystal Ball" by: Blackmore's Night

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**Big thanks to my beta, **_Believe In Fairy Tales_

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**Chapter Six: Disciples Are Idiots in General **

Two days had passed and the only time I saw that stupid and pathetic excuse for an Assassin was when he was coming back from a mission. And of course, he wasn't wearing the armor I worked my ass off for.

It stung. That armor was supposed to be for _me! _For when _I _became an Assassin. But no, Veterans weren't allowed to wear full assassin armor. So, I saved up and up and up - only to have it given away to an ungratefulassassin that wasn't evengoing to use it!

Tears pricked at the back of my eyelids. Why did I have to be so damn considerate? I felt I was owed atleast a 'thank you for saving my life', but apparently Altaïr dearest didn't get the memo.

I swear, sometimes caring is a curse.

I stopped and dismissed the thought **-** caring is what made me different from the others. I refused to become as numb and emotionless as the other assassins.

I was lazing around by the training ring whena novice ran up to me, out of breath. "The Mentor asked to see you in his office immediately."

I dipped my head in acknowledgment. "Thank you." I climbed to my feet and headed towards the Mentor'soffice.

When I got there, all the Levantine and most of the higher ranking assassins were in a semi-circle around The Mentor's desk. "Ah, Anima - we've been waiting for you."

I shrugged, "I came as soon as I heard your summons."

The Mentor's mouth curved into a small smile. "We have heard rumors that one of our targets is hidden within the church. We need a scout to go in and confirm whether this is true or not." He paused. "Anima, I think you would be best suited for this mission."

There were cries of outraged protest from the Levantine assassins. Everybody else was pretty much used to this sort of thing.

"Do you believe that a… a… _girl _can complete this mission?" Al Mualim stared directly at me. I met his eyes unflinchingly.

The Mentor nodded and shot me a quick grin. "I trust Anima to carry out any mission perfectly. She's shown that she's more than capable many times before."

I bowed my head respectfullyto the Mentor before smirking at Al Mualim, whose mouth quirked up in the corner, forming a half-hearted sneer.

The Mentor turned his attention back to me. "You must go now. Hurry." I nodded and vanished from the room.

A horse was already waiting for me in the stables. I threw myself into the saddle androde quickly to the outskirts of town, to where I knew the only church in the town was. I dismounted about half a mile from the church, walking the rest of the way so as not to arouse suspicion. As I neared the building, Islipped into the growing shadows surrounding it. The church stood high above every other building in the area. Guards surrounded it, and I realized by the amount of security that I wouldn't be able to simply walk in through the front doors. The rumor that my next target was somewhere inside the church certainly seemed to have some truth to it at this point.

Quickly, I skirted around the perimeter** of **the building, keeping just out of sight. Guards patrolled two or three at a time around the back of the building as well. There nowere cracks in their defenses at all. Not unless…

I looked up and stepped back to get a better view of the church's sloping roof. There was a small ledge just underneath the overhang of the roof - If I could get up there without being seen, I could easily sneak in through the bell tower and nobody would see me. A large crate pushed up against would work as a great stepping stool, but the jump to the window below the overhangto pull myself to the ledge would be difficult. I watched the guards for a few more minutes, figuring out their patrol routine. Between the time the first group rounded the side of the church and the next group appeared, I could easily make it up to the overhang if I was quick.

Timing my advances, I waited for the first group of guards to disappear around the corner, took a deep breath and made a running start.

Due to my damn shortness, I didn't make it to the window by a long shot.

I grunted and tried again. This time I made it. I hissed in pain, my fingertips struggling to hold on to the narrow window ledge and pull myself up. I used the windowsill as a foothold and vaulted myself up onto the ledge. After I got myself to the ledge, I let out a deep breath and allowed myself to relax for a moment and gather my thoughts. The sound of footsteps made me tense. I quickly scanned the area - guards were pacing the on theroof.

I instinctively pulled out a throwing knife, but my mind flashed back to how easily Altair had caught it before. I decided that my skills were lacking. I silently slipped the knife back into its pouch and unsheathed my hidden blade. I waited for the closest guard to come towards me along the edge of the roof, beforereaching up and grabbing his knee, pulling him off the roof. He plummeted past me with a sharp cry, and was struck silent when he hit the ground two stories down.

I heard alarmed voices as more guards thudded towards the edge of the roof. Steeling myself,I counted to three before hauling myself up onto the roofand plunging my blade into the nearest guard's throat. Faster than the next one could react, I slammed my blade into his gut and threw him off the roof. Three down, who knows how many to go. Suddenly, there were cries of '_Assassin_!' from below. I risked a glance over the edge. There were guards checking over the hidden blade wounds and calling out orders to get more guards on the roof.

I had to act quickly.

Quickly, I sprinted tothe bell tower, hopping inside. I dove past the bronze bell and landed on surprisingly clean scaffolding leading down into the main body of the church. Below me were rows upon rows of pews, and a large cross in the front of the church. A lone nun was methodically cleaning the benches below. I hopped down the scaffolding as low as possible and spotted a large hallway across the room that looked empty**. **I crept back up the scaffolding until I was in the rafters, then made my way carefully across them to the other end of the church.

I grimaced as my boot squeaked against the wooden beam I was perched nun looked up suddenly, "Is anyone there?" her voice was shaky with age.

"Shit." I cussed under my breath, clinging to the rafters.

Her head whipped, her eyes managing to land on my exact position. A frown formed on her lips. "You shouldn't curse in God's house, child. Now come down from up there, you're going to break your neck."

My voice died in my throat. Maybe I could still make it seem as though I wasn't there – maybe she'd think she was just hearing things and go back to work. I started moving towards the hallway again. She was old, maybe she'd forget? But her voice stopped me again, "You're an assassin, aren't you?"

I stopped. It was obvious that I had been caught.I answered, "Yes." My tone was careful. My heart beat in my throat, my chest constricting.

"Well, come down child. There is nobody here and this is a place for peace." The old nun brookedno refusal from me. Something about how she said it made me pause in thought, and finally I clambered down from the rafters and made my way to her.

I didn't say anything more, and when I was about five feet away from her she spoke again. "This church is polluted with greed. You need information. And if you do me a favor, I will give you as much information as I can."

I cocked my head to the side in confusion and looked her in the eyes - they were milky blue. The words slipped from my mouth before I could stop them, "You're blind."

The nun laughed slightly, "Only physically, child." I started to question her meaning when she cut me off, "You're eyes - they're grey, aren't they?"

"…Yes?" I squeaked. The old woman was starting to scare me.

"Hmm… like Athena's."

"The Greek goddess?" I clarified.

"Yes, yes. Goddess of war, with the symbol of the owl. Eagle and owl are among the best ruling couples in all of history. Though, usually air and earth and air and water work the best." I raised an eyebrow at her incoherent rambling. She stopped suddenly, "Well, I suppose it means little to you right now. I'm assuming you wish to know what I want you to carry out before I give you the information you seek?"

"That would be nice." I responded curtly.

"I need you to get my granddaughter out of this retched, vile place. If you can and do, I will give you the information as it comes."

"And if I refuse?"

The old lady shrugged, "Then you were just a figment of my imagination."

I nodded slowly, "I will talk to my leader. If your granddaughter is gone within the next two days, we agreed and you owe your loyalty to the assassins."

"Very well. Now be on your way, child. Guards are coming."

I nodded and made my way towards the wall to scale before turning around, "What did you mean about the eagle and owl?"

A low chuckle, "The eagle has perfect sight, but the owl has clear vision. Both of you are blind right now, however."

"What-" I started.

"There are things bigger than you and I, child. Things that cannot be seen until you close your eyes and let it come to you instead of blocking it out. Until you realize this, your path is an impossible one."

"How will I know which one's your granddaughter?"

"The secretary bird is vigilant enough to realize that." Her voice echoed ominously.

I turned towards her, but she wasn't there. My head was starting to throb with a migraine and I needed to get back to the bureau. I had been here too long and The Mentor and others would be worried. Plus, I needn't give them any more reason to doubt me. I already had to deal with their sexist views enough as it is.

Getting back to the bureau was easier than expected. I pushed through the large main doors and boltedthrough the hall at full speed, causing the assassins residing there to look up in surprise. One or two followed me, interested in what happened with the mission.

I hammered urgently on the door, and stopped only when the door opened to reveal an unimpressed-looking Assassin from Levantine. I wasn't sure which one it was, but his glare made my want to cower in a corner and die. It could've rivaled Altaïr's easily.

"Sir, sir…" ignoringthe assassin in front of me, I called out breathlessly to the Mentor, who looked up from his work with a worried expression.

"Anima? How was your mission?"

I leaned against the doorframe, catching my breath. "I snuck in, got caught by a blind nun who had the best hearing I'd ever, well… seen," I paused, taking another deep breath, and I considered telling them about her suspicious words, but decided against it. "Anyways, she said that if we saved her granddaughter, she'll give us information we need."

The one who opened the door spoke for the first time, "And what does the granddaughter look like?"

"Umm… I don't know." I backtracked slightly.

"How will we identify her then?" He questioned.

I shrugged. "She said something about instinct."

"And what does the old lady look like?" His expression was not amused.

"Like a nun? Milky blue eyes… average height?" I squeaked out under his glare.

I looked for The Mentor for assistance. He cleared his throat and stood up. "And you trust this nun?"

"Yes." I answered, clearing my throat.

He nodded, "Very well. You and Raan***** will head out tonight."

One of the assassins that had followed me earlier stepped to my side. "Of course." He dipped his head in acknowledgement to the Mentor's request.

"And you're just going to let them go? With that little information?" One of the Arabian assassins questioned.

"I trust Miss Anima's decision." The Mentor smiled at me, eyes twinkling. I felt my chest swell with pride.

"This sounds like a job for an actual assassin, not some novices." Al Mualim argued.

"Mercenaries." Raan and I corrected him simultaneously.

"Still not an assassin." The glaring man responded tartly.

The Mentor sighed, shaking his head**.** "Leave now. Complete the mission quickly. We cannot afford to lose time."

Raan and I bowed before leaving. I led the way back to the church for the second time that day.

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***Raan = Pronounced Ron. Also the same Raan that led the Levantine Assassin's in the beginning. Close friends with Anima. **

Not as long as the last chapter, but I wanted some suspense. And this chapter would be _really _long if not.

I don't like asking for _reviews, __**but **_I noticed that the set up changed so now, writing reviews is easier than ever! You only have to type and click _one _button! YAY! So, please review?


	8. Chapter Seven: The Help These Days

**Disclaimer: I don't own Assassin's Creed. Though I **_**really, really **_**want to.**

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**Warning: **Nothing bad.

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_No time for goodbye he said as he faded away  
Don't put your life in someone's hands  
They're bound to steal it away  
Don't hide your mistakes  
'Cause they'll find you, burn you, then he said_

_If you want to get out alive_  
_Hold on for your life_  
_If you want to get out alive_  
_Hold on for your life._

"Get Out Alive" by: Three Days Grace

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**Chapter Seven: The Help These Days**

We snuck into the church the same way as before, but this time it was completely dark. Every single noise seemed amplified, setting my nerves on edge. With assassinations, you just had toget in andthen get out. Here, we had to bring a body along with us, all while remaining perfectly silent. No pressure. No pressure at all.

As if sensing my discomfort, Raan shoved me playfully**,** and I almost fell off the rafter. I whipped around and gave him a nasty look. This was no time to be fooling around! I could see his dark eyes twinkling in the practically-nonexistent light. Rolling my eyes, I nodded towards the hallway I had seen earlier. We dropped to the ground and silently slipped into the shadows of the corridor. Candlelight flickered from braziers fixed to the walls. A slight breeze blew in from the open windows, making a few tapestries sway on the wall. It was eerie, to say the least.

The sound of** a** girl's laughter caught our attention once we were far enough down the hall. Raan took the lead and I fell in step behind him - he was good and navigating his way through unfamiliar territory. When he motioned for me to climb through the window leading to where the girl's laughter had come from, I bit back a smart comment about how he should go first, seeing as he'd had practice climbing into women's bedrooms back at the bureau. The window was high up, almost near the top of the ceiling. Climbing through it would give us good access to the bare beams of the roof. We hopped through and kept to the shadows in the rafters.

There were about twelve girls that all looked the same - dark hair, dark eyes, dressed in identical nightdresses. They jumped around,giggling quietly. The whole situation was actually really creepy. One of the girls sighed and pulled out a grey scarf from the folds of her nightgown, before twirling around in it. The others followed suit and started dancing around. After a couple of minutes thefirst girl sighed and laid the scarf carefully on her bed. Raan made a surprised choking noise. I glanced sideways at him. He motioned to the bed. The grey scarf was in the Assassin's symbol - an A with curved edges. We both glanced at the girls.

A knocking on the door stilled the girls' movements. A moment passed, and the door creaked open to admit the blind nun from earlier.

"We have a long day tomorrow, wash up, say your prayers, and get to bed." She warbled, her sightless eyes ghosting over the assembled girls.

The girls nodded and retreated to the separate washroom through another doorway. I waited until they had all vanished from sight before I made my move.

I hopped down from the raftersand grabbed the grey scarf. Raan gave me an odd glance, which I pretended not to notice. I took the grey scarf and wrapped one end of it around the handle of the door. I tucked the other end between the door and doorframe,hoping the girl would be smart enough to understand the message I was leaving. If she had the scarf, it meant she had to at least know something about the assassin Order. Once I was done, I hopped back upto Raan and we left the room.

Raan and I hid in the shadowed corridor forabout a half hour before the door slowly creaked open. Out stepped the girl from earlier, casting nervous looks up and down the stone passage. Raan stepped out of the shadows, catching the girl's attention. She clapped a hand over her mouth to silence herself before she made any noise.

Raan spoke in a hushed whisper. "We must go, be quiet."

Together, we made our way to the main church hall. Multiple times we had to duck down and hide from guards, each time it was harder to stay hidden than the last. The main hall was crawling with guards. I shot Raan a worried glance before jumping up on a low ceilingbeam. Raan helped the girl up and I pulled her to her feet on the narrow wooden plank. Raan and I helped her climb all the way to the church's flattened roof.

Suddenly, the girl froze up. "I can't." She whispered**, **fear darkening her eyes. I groaned inwardly – this was not the time for the girl to be plagued by a fear of heights!

"It's a flat roof. We won't let you fall." Raantried to comfort the young girl.

"No." her voice grew louder with panic. I shot Raan a warning glare. If he didn't stop pushing her buttons…

"Come on, you'll be okay. I promise." He urged, nudging her onto the roof.

This time, she screamed in flat-out panic. There were shouts from the guards down below.

"Go! Dammit!" I hissed to Raan, hauling myself out of the bell tower.

Raan slung the screaming girl over his shoulder and headed to the edge of the roof, with myself following close behind.

"Put her on my horse if she can ride! Get back to the bureau as fast as possible. I'll buy you some time." I told him quickly. He hesitated before nodding and jumped down from the church roof, running towards where our horses were tethered.

Heavy footsteps thundered towards me. I drew me sword and whipped around, just in time to parry the blow from a soldier behind me. Our swords rang clear and loud in the silent night. I ducked, dived, and danced through all the soldiers rapidly filling the roof. Though it seemed that where one would fall, two more would spring up. With a big heave, I jumped over the heads of all the men and put my back to a wall, so no guards could sneak up on me. I lashed out and took out one before ducking and kicking another in the knee.

A blow by the broad side of a sword made my knees crumple from underneath me. I looked up at the smirking faces of multiple soldiers before tightening my grip on my sword. A flash of white made everyone glance upwards. Three soldiers in the back of the group fell suddenly - a white hood stood above the rest.

Altaïr.

With renewed energy, I fought back. Blood was pouring into my eyes, but my other senses were crystal clear. Soon, there were nothing but corpses scattered over the roof. Altaïr's robes remained impeccably white,as per usual. He didn't even look at me as he turned towards the edge of the roof.

I lunged towards him and put a hand on his shoulder before he could jump down. He tensed before turning fully to face me. I used the opportunity to search his face before meeting his eyes. I wanted to say something, but instead I just nodded once in thanks before stepping back. He knew that I meant we were even now.

Though, he didn't move. Just stared at me intently. He seemed stunned at my gesture. So, I left him to his thoughts and jumped off the roof into a pile of hay in a nearby wagon before heading towards where my horse would be. When I got there, though, my horse wasnowhere to be seen. I cursed under my breath. Of course the girl knew how to ride.

…

I caught up with Raan and the girl outside the bureau. They were arguing with a guard - I told him to wave them by. We didn't say anything, but I walked beside the horses and helped unpack them in the stables while Raan took the girl to the Mentor. We would address what to do with her in a while. For now, it was time to sleep.

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**A/N: **Short chapter. I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you though! I just wrote two or three close to 3000 word chapters.


	9. Chapter Eight: Bitch Slapping

Author's Note** PLEASE READ! ~ **I try not to do these often, but I wanted to **apologize **about the late update. I wanted to get it out last weekend, but my beta was away on vacation (which I'm jealous for). So, congrats to her - and as a result, you're getting a _double update. _Yay! Just a quick warning, Chapter 9 is _self-beta'd. _It should (hopefully) be re-loaded and fully beta'd soon, but I wanna give my beta a quick break to re-coop.

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**Disclaimer: I claimeth no ownership-eth of Assassin's Creed-eth.**

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**Warning: Major language. **Anima finally snaps.

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_His fist is big but my gun's bigger_  
_He'll find out when I pull the trigger_

_I'm goin' home, gonna load my shotgun_  
_Wait by the door and light a cigarette_  
_If he wants a fight well now he's got one_  
_And he ain't seen me crazy yet_  
_He slapped my face and he shook me like a rag doll_  
_Don't that sound like a real man_  
_I'm going to show him what a little girls are made of_  
_Gunpowder and, gunpowder and lead._

"Gunpowder and Lead" by: Miranda Lambert

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Thanks to my beta, Believe in Fairy Tales!

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**Chapter Eight: Bitch Slapping is an Assassin Thing**

The next day I woke up in a really bad mood, to say the least. So it really wasn't a surprise that when walking down the corridors with a bad expression on my face that most of the other male assassins slipped through any open doorways before I got within 20 feet of them – my bad moods were infamous throughout the Order. The combination of a bad mood and lack of sleep meant I had developed an extremely short fuse with anyone who was unlucky enough to cross my path. Of course, the Levantine Assassin's missed the memo - or rather, just one assassin in particular.

I was stomping down the hallway, my loud footfalls serving as a warning to anyone around me not to stray into my path or face the consequences. I was making my way to The Mentor's office to see what we could do with the girl Raan and I rescued the night before, when a group of more experienced assassins - along with the Levantine assassins - stepped out of the office. One glare to them and the local assassins were backing up and giving me space. Unfortunately for Altair, he happened to be standing infront of the crowd.

"Why don't you wear the armor I worked my ass off for?" I snapped at him. He seemed surprised. Well, emotionless with his eyebrows arched.

"It is of no use to me."

"I worked for _years _gaining that money to buy that armor for myself. Instead I spent it on _you _after I saved your life and replaced your armor! Which, by the way, you never actually thanked me for!" I yelled, my rage growing by the second

"I see no need to thank you, _girl_." The distaste in his reply sent my whirlwind of emotions over the edge.

I raised my hand and slapped him as hard as I physically could. His head whipped to the side so fast that you could hear the joints popping in his neck. My palm stung from the impact. The entire corridor echoed with the sound of that slap - a slap that I am still quite proud of to this day.

"You know what, Altaïr? You can take that armor and shove it up your _motherfucking _ASS!" I screamed at him, one step short of punching him right in the gut. One of the local assassins worked up the courage to try and drag me towards the Mentor's office while I struggled and cussed out the Arabian.

"Learn to swallow your fucking pride you goddamned bitch, you no good bastard! No wonder nobody wanted you, you thankless piece of shit!" I screamed while making every rude gesture known to mankind at him. My vision was tainted red, the insults pouring from my mouth. "If you _ever _pull that bullshit on me again, so help me Gods, I will slap the _shit _out of, boy!" My voice was hoarse from screaming, and I dimly heard the sound of a door closing. I realized it was the door to The Mentor's office.

"Anima. If you would please calm down." The Mentor stated patiently, giving me a stern look. I took a deep breath to rein my emotions back in. I roughly shook off the assassin trying to restrain me and slumped against the wall, running a hand roughly over my face.

"Now, I'm going to overlook this incident because we are both too busy for this right now. I need you to go down to the gardens and talk to the girl you smuggled out of the church last night because she isn't talking to anyone at all. Hopefully you can get something out of her." I nodded, satying silent unless more of my pent-up rage decided to show through again.

"Good. Now leave."

I made my way to the gardens without a backwards glance. There, I saw the girl from last night. She was curled up at the base of a statue, crying softly. Silently, I sat down beside her. After a couple minutes she sniffled and looked up at me. I could tell she was younger than me by a couple years, but not by much. Her face was oval shaped and a smooth olive color, if not a little pale from too much time indoors. The most surprising thing by far were her eyes, which were sea-foam green

I decided to start the conversation. "I'm Anima. Your grandmother was the one who told me to get you out of the church."

"Thank you. I am Amelia." She paused, taking in my features, "You're not from around here, are you?"

I paused for a moment. "Originally, no."

Another sniffle. "Your features are too light to be from this area. You also have a slight accent."

"I'd assumed my accent had faded a long time ago." I shrugged.

"You can't really tell if you're not listening for it. How old are you?" Her questioning caught me off guard. The Master had said she refused to talk to anyone – maybe it was because I was a girl she felt she could relate to.

"Seventeen. How old are you?"

"Thirteen… father said I either get married or join the church. I thought that being married was like being a slave, little did I know the church was the same." The bitterness in her voice surprised me.

"I don't think we can guarantee you a nice life here, but you may work for your keep and we'll ensure that you protected and looked after. If not, you'll have to leave or take to the streets – we can't afford to have freeloaders in the Order. You'd also have to promise not to breathe a word about us."

Amelia was silent for a few moments, weighing up her options. "What would I do here?" she sighed eventually.

I shrugged, "You're too old to start assassin training, even if the Mentor would allow another female assassin - but I'm sure that we can find somebody to teach you to read and write so you can manage the library. Or you could join the other women in washing the laundry and cleaning the bureau. Though, I suppose you wouldn't like that."

She gave a slight smile. "I think the library is up my alley - that is, once I can read or write."

"The man running the library is going senile and keeps nagging for an apprentice. Unfortunately, all the men around here are bumbling Neanderthals and can't do a damn thing. I'm sure he'll gripe about your presence, but he'll teach you all you need. Come, let's speak to him now." I rose to my feet, beckoning Amelia to follow.

We headed to the library. It was in a state of disarray, with books and tomes scattered all over the place. Some lying in piles on the floor, some tattered and gathering dust. The only organized volumes were the ones lining the shelves.

As we approached the old librarian, we bowed in respect. He squinted at us, "Who is this?" he gestured towards Amelia.

"This is Amelia, sir. She's here to be your new apprentice," I answered carefully.

The old librarian huffed and Amelia shifted awkwardly, but held her ground.

"Can you read or write?" he asked curtly.

Amelia shook her head.

A deep sigh came from the senile old man. "I suppose that I'll have to teach you those. And if you learn it well enough, you can work for me. It's better than any of the other idiots that barge through the door anyways."

I smiled at Amelia and she smiled back before following the librarian off to some far corner of the building. I went back to The Mentor's office for work.

"No, I will not be taught by a _woman!_" The boy spat.

"I really don't think this is a good idea, sir." I voiced my opinion. The assassins that had the uncanny ability to be in The Mentor's office whenever I was stood by worriedly, not wanting another relapse of what happened yesterday morning.

"Kinja, son, you have no choice in the matter." Al Mualim snapped. The sexist little boy who didn't want to be taught by me looked at the glaring assassin who I learned was named Malik. Kinja's eyes were pleading.

"Anima, you have no say either. I want to see it done, so it will be done." The Mentor commanded.

Al Mualim released a deep breath, "So it is official - Kinja will be Anima's apprentice."

Kinja, who was standing right beside me, turned towards me and spat right in my face. I slowly wiped it off and glared at him, restraining my temper.

"Be at the training ring tomorrow by sunrise." I ordered coldly.

And, for the second time this week, I was slapped by a sexist, Arabian assassin. Except this time the Arabian assassin was my twelve-year-old, just-passing-puberty, whiny little annoying apprentice.

I flexed my jaw. The little boy slammed the door while retreating – _descending_ - out of the room.

"What is it with you Arabians and rude-boxing me constantly?" I sighed, running a hand irritably through my hair.

It was Raan who replied. "I wouldn't be talking after this morning, Anima."

I glared at him, then Altaïr, who stood in the shadowy corner of the room. "Oh, at least he deserved it."

"And you didn't?" Raan jested, his tone teasing.

I crossed the room in a huff and backhanded him (not as hard as I slapped Altaïr, though) before exiting the room – he was an assassin, Raan could live with a little tough love.

When I got to the training ring to start with Kinja the next morning, he wasn't there. I waited, and waited, and waited until about three hours had gone by. I started looking for him. Imagine my surprise when I found him in the whorehouse. Note the sarcasm.

I pulled him out by his ear. "What are you doing? I paid for that, you know!" He yelled at me, flailing about like an idiot.

I snorted at him, "You've barely hit puberty, they're probably just faking it. Anyways, you're a what – apprentice? Level three?"

"Novice." He snapped.

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, lever four - you're really raising the bar there." I drawled sarcastically. There was a pause and I looked him up and down. "Run to the southern city wall and back."

He turned around and walked away. He didn't even bother to return.

Over the next three days, the same thing happened. Finally, I got fed up and went to talk to Al Mualim and explain my situation.

"He's just wasting my time, sir - and I'm not going to teach him if he's not willing to learn. He can stay a novice for all I care. I, however, can be running my missions and working on getting my own rank up too, instead of chasing after a boy who obviously has no intention to learn!" I threw my hands up in exasperation.

The Levantine Master Assassin sighed. "You make sense, child, and I see where you are coming from. However, I lament you giving up on him so soon."

A wave of guilt washed over me, and I backtracked a little. "Maybe… just maybe… if I could make him swallow his pride, will he listen to me?"

The old man smiled, "Your Mentor is a close ally and an even closer friend of mine - if he trusts you, I will too. Do what you wish to teach Kinja his lesson and I will support you."

I bowed gratefully. "Thank you."

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**A/N: **A little more humor. Don't worry; I'm not about to turn anybody into an abusive bastard/bitch any time soon. I just thought it was necessary for Anima to put the boys in their places… and what better way than a nice big slap across the cheek?

Oh, and Raan and Anima are close friends, so she didn't hit him that hard and they aren't really mad at each other.


	10. Chapter Nine: The One Thing

**Disclaimer: I don't own Assassin's Creed**

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**Warning: **Minor flirting? Is that considered worth mentioning? Yes? No? Maybe so? Oh well.

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_If I should die tonight,  
May I first just say I'm sorry,  
For I, never felt like anybody,  
I am a man of many hats although I,  
Never mastered anything.  
When I am ten feet tall,  
I've never felt much smaller, since the fall.  
Nobody seems to know my name,  
So don't leave me to sleep all alone,  
May we stay lost on our way home?_

_C'mon, c'mon, with everything falling down around me,_  
_I'd like to believe in all the possibilities._

"C'Mon" by: Panic! At the Disco ft. Fun.

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**Big Thanks to my beta, **Believe in Fairy Tales, **she's awesome. **She also helped out writing the _training scenes – _so a round of applause to her.

* * *

**Chapter Nine: Feelings are the One Thing an Assassin Shouldn't Have **

I sat quietly for a while, thinking to myself ways in which to make Kinja swallow his pride a little. I felt a small pang of guilt – it felt as though I was setting him up for failure. A knock on my door snapped me out of my thoughts, and I realized I had been staring blankly at the wall. Raan cracked the door open and peered inside, seeing me facing the wall. He raised an eyebrow.

"Raan?" I smiled sheepishly.

He stared at me like I was insane, which I probably was. "…Yes?" he answered slowly.

"Do you by chance know any assassin that could kick Kinja's butt for me? One to teach him a lesson or two? Perhaps make him swallow his pride?" I looked at him pleadingly.

A smirk appeared on his lips. "One or two come to mind."

"Well then, I think you can tell one of them to sic Kinja." I smirked at him.

"Of course." He turned to leave, a calculating smile on his face.

I threw in my last sentence just as he shut the door behind him.

"Oh, and he's not allowed to learn how to fight from anybody else, got it? Tell all the others. And if they ask why, tell them to go to Al Mualim."

* * *

The clang of metal and the shouts of a fight drew me out of my room and onto the rooftops of the bureau.

Sure enough, there was Kinja and another apprentice trading blows in the middle of the courtyard. By now, almost everybody was watching the match between the two. The Levantine Assassins were standing under one of the archways, and most of the other Assassins were perched up above the area, watching from above like me.

I took in the boy's movements - he had potential, but like any other novice, he had his obvious flaws. His movements towards his left side, for example, were slower than to his right. It was a clear indication to any enemy that the boy favored his right side, and it would be easy to exploit such a weakness.

As if to illustrate my assessment, the other novice picked up on Kinja's weakness and had him floored in a matter of moments.

With Kinja's defeat, the crowd dispersed. I stuck around a minute and made sure he saw me - just to rub salt in the wound a little at the fact that the teacher he had so vehemently rejected had witnessed his failure.

* * *

It was two more days before anything happened relating to Kinja. Raan practically came skipping into my room with his hood down and hair a mess from running.

"Guess who just asked for my assistance?" he literally sang. He was an odd assassin, that one.

"Does it have something to do with a hormonal teenage boy?" I feigned obliviousness, my tone sarcastic.

"You could say that… Kinja, to be precise," he laughed victoriously.

I leaned forward eagerly. "And what did you say?"

"That it was your job and your job only," Raan said with a wink.

I laughed and winked back. My plan was working well so far.

* * *

Another two days passed and I was talking quietly with Amelia in the library – she was picking up on reading quickly, but was struggling with writing. The door swung open and hit the wall behind it loudly. An angry novice –specifically, _my _novice- stormed in, ignoring all the glares from those inhabiting the library. He paused for a moment and scanned the library before locking onto me and stomping over. Without a word, he grasped my arm and started tugging me out of the room with a surprising amount of strength despite his lanky frame.

"I'll be back later!" I called out to the confused girl over my shoulder.

I allowed myself to be dragged to the training ring without much protest. When we got to the sandy arena, only then did Kinja let go of my arm. He walked over to the chest on the side of the ring and picked up two swords. He tossed one to me I caught it deftly in one hand. I raised an eyebrow questioningly.

The boy literally ripped his hood off and scowled at me. "Teach me." His lip was curled in a snarl and eyes were narrowed.

I opened my mouth to make a remark about respecting his teacher, but something said that swallowing his pride to ask me to help was enough. Instead, I settled on a somewhat neutral remark.

"Why Kinja, I thought you'd never ask."

He squared his shoulders and held up his sword. I smirked slightly, "Oh no, not yet. Right now, we run."

With that, I wheeled around, stuck my sword blade-first into the sand and took off at a hellish pace towards the wall near the outskirts of town.

* * *

*One Day Later*

"Good, now try it with your left hand!" I called out over the clanging of the swords.

Kinja and I were circling each other warily in the training ring, swords at the ready. I took a few jabs at him, all of which he clumsily defended or dodged. I thrust my sword at him again. Another dodge. The boy still wasn't learning to use his left side, and I used that to my advantage.

I brought my sword down in a wide arc towards his left side. "Left hand, Kinja!"

Ignoring my instruction, he twisted his torso at an odd angle in an effort to parry the blow again with his right hand. While his center of gravity was shifted, I nudged his right leg with the toe of my boot. The small touch sent him off balance and he landed in a heap in the dirt, coughing and spluttering.

"That wasn't your left hand!" I huffed in exasperation.

* * *

*Two Days Later*

Kinja's sword hit the ground with a dull thud, as did his greaves creaked slightly from the weight; he tore them off in frustration. Without another word, he spun on his heel and stomped away from me after I had bested him yet again in a one-on-one duel.

"Are you walking away from me?" I raged. "Are you _walking away _from _me!_"

The others training in the arena had stopped to stare. Kinja's step faltered for a moment, but he kept going.

My anger grew exponentially. The brat wanted me to teach him? He could bloody well act like he wanted to learn. "Because _so help me Gods, _I will turn you into a eunuch if you keep going! You'd do more good singing soprano than fighting with all the fighting training you've had, dammit!"

"That's only because _you're _teaching me!" he called spitefully over his shoulder.

"Kinja, I swear – YOU WILL NOT GET ANOTHER TEACHER AFTER ME!"

That stopped him in his tracks.

* * *

*Five Days Later*

"Square your shoulders! Don't let them curl in when blocking!" I shouted as we sparred.

I landed another bone rattling blow. This time, Kinja kept his shoulders as straight as a pole as he deflected my blade with his own. The added force of his defensive maneuver made me spin in a half-circle before I could regain my footing. I smiled to myself when my head was turned - the boy was improving.

I spun back, thrusting my sword back towards him. "Better – this time step into the blow and plant your feet!"

* * *

*One Week Later*

Kinja and my hurried footsteps blew up clouds of dust in the sandy training arena as we danced around each other in a flurry of whirling blades and robes. The constant clang of our swords was only broken by my shouted commands.

"Try again!" I snapped as he tried another sloppy maneuver to get underneath my sword. I pushed him back roughly and motioned for him to charge. The tip of his sword grazed the red sand, his blade far too low to get enough speed for an effective attack. "No! Again! This time don't look at the ground, and keep your shoulders higher!"

A better swipe came in my direction this time, although Kinja still wasn't focusing on me when he attacked – he was looking as some point just next to my left foot for some reason.

"Look up! Look up! Look up! How many times do I have to tell you this! I _hate _repeating myself, dammit!" I smacked the flat side of the blade across his shoulder. He stumbled and fell, landing on his knees in the sand.

I grumbled. "Why did that happen? Perhaps because you didn't _look up! _Get off your ass and do it again!"

* * *

*Ten Days Later*

My furious flurry of blows drove Kinja back a few steps. He stumbled and teetered like a drunkard. "If you're going to lose your ground, at least keep your balance… stop falling backwards! Keep your feet under you! Are you _listening_ to me? What are you… eek!"

Kinja's foot caught me just behind the ankle, dragging me down with him as he toppled over. We both hit the ground, my shoulder jamming into his chest. I could literally hear the air rushing from his lungs. I smirked – it would teach him to stop jittering around when avoiding attacks.

"I think that's enough for today," he wheezed as I jumped back to my feet.

I nodded slightly. He groaned in relief and let his head lull back against the ground.

"But first we need to run to the river and back."

He groaned loudly.

* * *

*Two Weeks Later* (AKA Two weeks since Kinja started training with Anima)

I relaxed and watched the sunrise from the benches near the training ring. A shadow fell across my line of vision and I grinned lazily at a tired looking Kinja who hopped off the roof.

"Go put on your full armor and as many weapons as you can carry and use," I ordered him.

"Why?"

I gave him a condescending glare. He huffed and headed back inside. I was in the same position when he came back five minutes later.

"Today we're going to work on free running - and swimming - in full armor!" I squealed excitedly. Free running was my forte.

Kinja looked me up and down with an annoyed expression. "But you're not even in assassin's attire!"

I smirked. "I'm sorry? Did I say _we_ were running in full armor? I meant _you _will be running in full armor while I tag alongside you and laugh at your misery and enjoy my lightweight clothing."

He stared at me in disbelief. I laughed slightly and clapped my hands gleefully, before standing up. "Oh, and I forgot. While running we're also scouting out the town and certain landmarks. At any given time after today, I might just decide to make you draw the layout of these landmarks in detail. So I suggest paying attention to your surroundings."

And_ then _I took off running.

The slight breeze felt amazing on my face. Up ahead, were some beams sticking out of a building. Without thinking twice I launched myself onto them and used them as stairs before finally jumping onto the rooftop above. I hopped from to rooftop to rooftop without so much as a single hesitant step. Up ahead, there was a particularly large gap - the kind that you didn't know if you were going to make it across or not until you were halfway into the air. Of course, most jumps were hard for me because I didn't have the advantage of long legs. Still, it was a pretty big gap – even for other full assassins.

I briefly considered stopping and not jumping, but it was a challenge and I wasn't about to turn around now. Anyways, I had seen Altaïr jump twice –if not three times - the distance just the other day like it was nothing. Then again I was pretty sure Altaïr was suicidal; a god; part wild animal; did I mentionsuicidal?; oh, and insane… and had about a ten foot stride. And no, I wasn't exaggerating. And yes, he is about a foot and a half taller than me. Again, I'm short. Then again, he was also taller than most of the other men here. Still, he hopped over most jumps like a gazelle without breaking a sweat. I envied him for that.

I, however, was still faster than him (I liked to think) and definitely a better swimmer – if not anything else.

So maybe it wasn't the best idea to take the jump. However, I would never know if I could do it until I tried, right?

I threw myself into the jump and felt the wind get knocked out of my lungs as I landed solidly about three feet into the other rooftop. I rolled to absorb the impact.

Before I could recover, my apprentice crashed into me from behind – in full armor. I hit the rooftop again, much harder with Kinja's added weight driving me down.

I shoved Kinja off of me and pushed myself to my feet, dusting off my robes. He was bouncing up and down with a manic look on his face.

"Gee," I started tartly, "it only took you all day to catch up. And I wasn't even moving that fast."

He just laughed like a maniac. "That was fun! We should do that again!"

I stared at him incredulously before glancing at the sky - it was long into noon, heading towards early evening. His laughter was infectious, and I joined in as we headed towards the river. We sat in the shade near the banks for a couple minutes in silence to recover from the run before heading back to the bureau.

"I was wrong about you," Kinja commented suddenly.

I glanced over at him and shrugged. "Most people are."

"The assassins… well, more like the men back home don't think that fondly of women. I don't even think my dad loved my mom at all." He frowned at the thought, lost in a memory. "I wouldn't be surprised if she only got pregnant with me only because he raped her. That would explain why both of them avoided me like the plague." He took a deep breath. "The women that my mother worked with were whores who pitied me and teased me. I got into the habit of thinking that all women were the same: useless, material, replaceable."

I shifted awkwardly before attempting to crack a joke. "Does that mean I'm actually worth something to you?" I turned to him with a goofy smile. It quickly fell when he remained silent and searched my face intently. After a moment I cleared my throat and turned back to the water. "I watched my father beat my mother to death when I was seven. That's something no child should experience, ever. After watching my mother just take the blows, not knowing how to fight back and me not being able to help… I promised myself I wouldn't be so helpless or weak."

I laughed humorlessly for a moment.

"The next day I started picking fights with whoever I thought I could take - just to learn. I came home with a bunch of busted lips and black eyes. Of course my dad wasn't around to see them… he wasn't around much after my mother's death. One day, after I got my face slammed into the ground and was about to black out, a man took me in. He was an ex soldier. He taught me hand-to-hand combat. Why I would trust a random old man to teach me, I don't know, but I trusted him…"

I trailed off, gathering my thoughts. Kinja remained silent while I continued. "He taught me how to swordfight and play to my strengths. He gave me suggestions on how to free run. He became a father to me. He taught me how to survive. What to eat, how to prepare food, how to fight, how to swim. He treated me like a son, but still gave me dresses." I laughed at the fond memory. The river glimmered in the sunlight. "I lived up North, even farther North than the Holy Roman Empire. In a place called Sweden. When I was eleven, people invaded my town. I watched the man that raised me die. My biological father was nowhere to be seen – come to think about it, I think he was out of town for business or something."

I took a deep breath, reliving painful memories. "They took some of us as slaves. Sold us to whoever paid the most. They worked their way South and sold off more people wherever they stopped. The previous Mentor found me in France, fighting off the guards. He saw my potential and bought me. Of course, I didn't know that at the time, so imagine his surprise when I kicked him in the shin and took off running." I smiled slightly. The look on the old man's face had been priceless.

"He thought it was the funniest thing that ever happened to him. It was the last thing he ever told me… that story. He was on his deathbed laughing like there was no tomorrow. Well, I guess for him there wasn't. Then our current Mentor took over and he let me become an assassin, though I have a sneaking suspicion that's only because he pitied me."

"That's… rough." Kinja stated awkwardly. "That's like losing three fathers."

I smiled sadly. "It is the past. I try to look on the brighter side and tell myself that I gained many more brothers as a result. Of course, most of the new recruits, whoever was born into the Creed, and the really old assassins don't appreciate the fact that a girl is in the Order. And they make sure that everybody knows they disapprove, but there are more cool old guys here that support me."

Kinja scratched his head. "Sorry."

I laughed. "I don't think I'd be assassin material if I burst out crying every time I heard some sexist remark about me."

There was silence for a while longer. I watched as the sun began to sink.

Kinja spoke up again after a little while. "How many assassins were there when you got here?"

I frowned, vaguely remembering. "About sixty. We try to keep fifteen recruits at all times and twenty fully ranked assassins to train them. The rest are of ranks anywhere between the two. Now there are fifteen full Assassins and only ten new recruits. Forty five Assassins total. Our numbers have been dropping. We don't have enough people to teach the new recruits and as a result, not as many are gaining rank as they should be. What of your bureau?"

"A couple hundred. At least fifty fully trained Assassins. Thirty or so recruits at any time. The building is a lot bigger too." Kinja shrugged casually.

My jaw must have dropped. "So it's a big bureau? Do you get lots of missions? Do you gain rank quickly? Do you get lots of training?" I fired off rapidly. He nodded enthusiastically. "That's so cool! I want to go there!" I breathed in wonder.

"Well then, I'll have to take you someday." He grinned at me.

"When we're both full assassins, right?" I laughed.

He nodded.

I sighed dramatically, "Well, if you keep moving as slowly as you did today, I'll be old by then and would've long forgotten this conversation."

He scowled jokingly, dipping his hand into the river and flinging some water at me. I shrieked before pushing him into the shallows and taking off, sprinting down the street towards the bureau. I only stopped when I was back inside the bureau, panting outside the library doors. Amelia, having heard the ruckus and still being in the library, came out and looked me up and down disapprovingly. I smiled sheepishly at her, but our attention was caught by another heaving runner behind me. We both turned our heads towards Kinja as he caught up with me.

I tutted. "We really are going to have to work on that whole speed and stamina issue of yours."

He was hyperventilating when he gasped out, "So what? Same thing tomorrow?"

I nodded and smiled wickedly at him. "Well, how else to you expect girls to like you if not for your physical abilities?" If it weren't for the fact that he was out of breath and dark skinned, he would've blushed at that comment. Instead he just rolled his eyes and made his way towards his room, hobbling like an old man.

* * *

Amelia turned to me with a teasing grin. "You know…" she started. I blinked at her, not liking where this was going. "He likes you. And you and him would look good together. He's filled out some since he first came here, and he's the perfect height for you."

I blinked again. "I'm five years older than him."

She shrugged. "Eh, it's not that bad. He can knock you up, right?"

I wrinkled my nose. "Why would I want to have sex with my apprentice?"

She rolled her eyes, "_Because _he's cute, he likes you, you need a love life, and you two are perfect for each other."

"A couple of things - one, didn't you grow up chaste and in a church? Two, I'll say it again: I am five years older than him. Three, I don't think of him in _that _way… it's creepy. Hell, I don't even like him for anything more than a brother. And four, who are you to be talking about a love life? Last time I checked, you didn't have one either."

Amelia snorted and flicked her hand dismissively. "Technicalities. What I'm saying is, that maybe you should be more open about your options."

I rolled my eyes and walked away. "Yeah, whatever. Goodnight Amelia."

* * *

***Altaï****r****'s POV* - Can I get a 'yay' or 'thank you', because I debated whether adding this section or not. So, call it a treat. Don't expect many of these. **

He watched her make a leap about three times her height between the buildings with a grace he'd only seen once before - when he first arrived, and she was completing an assassination. He had just finished collecting information from the nun at the church when he spotted her from the alleyway. She hadn't seen him, though. He winced almost imperceptibly when she landed roughly on the rooftop – he could almost feel how hard she hit the top of the building.

Not even a moment later, a figure robed in white crashed into her. Altair's hidden blade slipped out on instinct, and he made to move forward and check if she was okay. He stopped when he saw Anima throw the gangly youth off of her, and he chuckled. They both got up and talked for a moment before slowly making their way towards the outskirts of town.

He should've headed back to the bureau then. But instead, he followed them, fascinated by the young woman. He sat near the riverbank – far closer than he'd ever dared before considering his fear of water. He listened to their conversation and felt disgusted at himself for being moved by the girl's story.

Altair had slipped away once Anima had finished her story – he wasn't comfortable with the… _empathic_ emotions it was invoking. He landed up back at the bureau's library. It was silent, save for the occasional mumbling of a younger girl attempting to sound out words while reading. After a couple minutes, there was a sound outside the door. The girl – Amelia, he thought her name was – got up and opened it before slipping out, leaving a crack in the door which allowed the voices beyond to slip through.

Again - Altair didn't know whether to be angry at himself, furious at the boy, angry at the Amelia girl, relieved about Anima, mad at Anima, or repulsed by the whole conversation. Instead, it came out as a white hot mass of confusion and rage, which was a different sensation for the assassin who usually held a cold and disconnected regard for practically any situation.

One thing was for certain, though - He would see an end to those emotions.

Molten gold eyes blazed with determination in the receding afternoon light.

* * *

**A/N: **Writing the beginning of the chapter and Altaïr's POV were extremely difficult. So, what did you think of **Altaï****r****'s POV?** **Edward Cullen worthy status?** Just plain **creepy?** Should I edit it out later? **What do you think** I should do with it? Or do you like it even though I personally think it's shit?

P.S. – Long chapter here people. Be proud?


	11. Chapter Ten: Kylal

**Disclaimer: Yo no poseo **_**Assassin's Creed**_**. **_I don't own Assassin's Creed. _(I think that's the correct translation – it looks about right).

**Warning: **Not really a warning, but _Malik still has his two arms_.

_Stare in wonder, who's here to bring you down?  
Find your martyr, I'm sure you've made the crown  
So light a fire under my bones, so when  
I die for you, at least I'll die alone_

Ain't nothing for me to end up like this  
There's no comparing me this time

All my heroes have now become ghosts  
Sold their sorrow to the ones who paid the most  
All my heroes are dead and gone  
But down inside of me, they still live on

"Heroes" by: Shinedown_  
_

**Chapter Ten: Kylal**

***3****rd**** person POV***

"What you say makes sense, though I simply cannot see it happening."

"As long as his training is accomplished, I do not care who completes it."

"He _has _improved over the past three weeks."

"Perhaps she needs some assistance too?"

"Then we've reached an agreement?"

"I believe we have."

***Anima's POV***

Amelia laughed as I splashed her with water. We were currently busy with the laundry – I don't know how Amelia managed to suck me into it, but to me it was as unpleasant as having teeth pulled.

"Ugh, I feel like such a… _woman," _I groaned.

"Maybe that's because you associate women with slave labor," she joked back with a grin.

"Again with this stuff. What did they teach you in church, really?" I shook my head, rolling my eyes.

She shrugged. "I'm not in the church anymore. Besides, I was surrounded by other teenage girls - what else were we supposed to talk about when we were bored? Bible scriptures?"

We drifted into a companionable silence as I focused on trying to remove a blood stain. Who knew they were so hard to get out? After much scrubbing and little progress, I snorted and chucked the shirt over to Amelia. Perhaps she'd have better luck with it. "Well, one thing's for certain - I definitely respect whoever does my clothes as of now."

Amelia giggled, catching the shirt and resuming my work. "And not your bed sheets?"

I splashed her again, gaping incredulously. "That's disgusting."

She squealed as the water hit her, but continued laughing. We both looked up when one of the new recruits approached. His face was blank when he turned to me. "Your presence is requested immediately in The Mentor's office."

Amelia and I shared a concerned glance before I got up and made my way towards the office. Once I got there, only Kinja, The Mentor, Raan, Al Mualim, and Malik was there – a far cry from the full group usually residing in the office at any point of the day.

The Mentor nodded in acknowledgement of my arrival and turned to Kinja. "Congratulations, Kinja, the Assassins have decided it's time for you to move up a rank. Your ceremony will be tonight. With that said, Anima will no longer be your mentor. That will be Raan's position from now onwards."

I opened my mouth to protest but The Mentor was already speaking again. "Anima, recently I became worried that you weren't progressing enough on your own. Therefore, Malik has offered to be your Mentor until you are a full Assassin."

I glanced at Malik and our eyes met. His were dark and brooding. I gulped.

The Mentor must have seen the expression on my face. He sighed. "What is it, child?"

I cleared my throat and clasped my hands behind my back. "I was doing fine before."

"Yes, but I fear you will not continue to progress to a fully-fledged assassin without some guidance from someone with a higher rank," The Mentor reasoned. He saw the outraged look on my face and backtracked slightly. "What I meant, uh, was that it would be to your benefit to learn from Malik's experience outside of the city."

Narrowing my eyes, I let his slight doubt in my abilities slide. I turned my attention to Malik and gave him a once-over – he certainly wasn't too bad-looking. Maybe working with him wouldn't be as bad as I thought it would be.

"I don't suppose I have a choice, do I?" my eyes were still on Malik, but the question was directed at The Mentor.

He chuckled. "No, not really."

I sighed and shook my head. "Whatever you think it best." Deeming that my humiliation for the day was over, I turned to leave. "Congratulations on moving up the social ladder, Kinja," I gave my former pupil a lopsided smile on the way out. And with that, I bid a hasty retreat.

"Wait!" The Mentor raised his voice, and I froze mid-step. "You will accompany Malik and Kinja to the church to gather information from the nun you had contact with before. _Now_ you are dismissed."

I rolled my eyes and continued out the door without looking back.

Kinja slinked out the door after me and Malik walked calmly next to him. With the horses already saddles and waiting, we rode straight to the church. We made it there in record time. Tethering the horses in the thick treeline behind the church, I looked at Malik and waited for him to say something. When he remained silent, my look turned to a glare. He stayed passive, probably waiting for me to make the first move. With a huff, I strode past him and towards the back door of the church.

After scaling the roof of the church and coming down through the bell tower, I swung myself into the rafters and scaled the scaffolding to the floor. Kinja and Malik were right behind me. The old nun was busy cleaning the wooden pews, as she had been when I had first encountered her. She looked up when she heard our footsteps on the flagstones, and she smiled when she seemed to recognize me.

She put down her rag and her smile widened as she made her way out from between the pews towards me. "My granddaughter, is she safe?"

"Yes, she's settled in at the bureau quite nicely," I replied with a smile of my own.

The blind nun came forward and clasped my hands in her gnarled fingers. "Bless you child, you and your organization."

I smiled gently and returned the gesture. I cleared my throat. We had serious business here. "About the information we were sent for…"

The nun smiled and nodded. "The men you are looking for are out of the country. Two to the south and two to the north. Here," she handed over a letter with arthritic hands, "this may tell you where they are in greater depth. Safe travels, Assassins."

"Thank you," I bowed respectively and elbowed Kinja in the gut when he didn't do the same. He let out a slight 'oof' and gave me a dirty glance before following suit. Though the old woman was blind, she certainly knew how to read her surroundings. With that, we bid a hasty retreat.

"If we kill one of them while they're away, they'll be sure to flee back here," I mentioned.

"Kinda like herding them in, right? Turn tail and run back home?" Raan elaborated.

"What if they all scatter in different directions?" The Mentor argued.

I shook my head. "They rely too heavily on each other. We know that Trystan's the leader and is so paranoid he doesn't even trust messengers, which means he has to talk with the others face-to-face. If they had a meeting place outside of Georgia, we'd know about it. They'll all have to meet up together eventually. And it will be here, within our reach, if we are able to get them while they're away! They'll have no place to go! Let news of Kylal's death reach them and then they'll run back here."

Malik cleared his throat, "They'll know it's an assassination. They also know that the church is right next to a bureau of its own. They'll put two and two together."

I paused before speaking again. "Not if we aren't present during the assassination. An accident can be arranged. Or poison. Poison always works." There was a murmur of agreement throughout the room.

"Wait… I'm confused." Kinja rubbed his temple. "Trystan is the one in charge, right?"

"He also has a huge army behind him. Or at least he will within a couple months time," I answered with a shrug.

"And Kylal…?"

"Is one of his three main men," I explained.

He nodded slowly. "So… where is he?"

"South, in Turkey," The Mentor cut off my reply. "Kinja, you will go with Malik and Altaïr there to assassinate him in a _discrete _form."

I gaped for a minute. "Wh- what? Hey! It was my plan! Why don't I get to run my plan?"

The Mentor raised his eyebrows at my outburst. "You have done quite enough for the time being, Anima. Take a day or two off. You are dismissed." His tone was curt. I narrowed my eyes at him and turned to leave. He switched his focus back to the others. "You three are leaving tonight."

My jaw was clenched so tightly it ached as I tried to restrain my temper. I went straight to my room and forced myself to close the door quietly. I sat on the edge of my bed, my hands curled into white-knuckled fists as I bit the inside of my cheek. I tasted blood. It was only a few minutes before a quiet knock on my door made me look up.

**You guys, it was insanely difficult to write this chapter. Sorry if it was short. It felt like I was moving through mud for each word. Yeah, not fun. So I decided to end it here before I would shoot myself from frustration. **


	12. Chapter Eleven: I Decide

**Disclaimer: I claim no ownership of Assassin's Creed. All rights go to their respective owners.**

* * *

**Warning: **If you don't like cliffhangers, I suggest not reading this chapter until I upload Chapter Twelve and read them together. I think you guys will feel bittersweet about this chapter though.

_Keep you in the dark_  
_You know they all pretend_  
_Keep you in the dark_  
_And so it all began_

_Send in your skeletons_  
_Sing as their bones go marching in... again_  
_The need you buried deep_  
_The secrets that you keep are ever ready_  
_Are you ready?_  
_I'm finished making sense_  
_Done pleading ignorance_  
_That whole defense_

_Spinning infinity, boy_  
_The wheel is spinning me_  
_It's never-ending, never-ending_  
_Same old story_

_What if I say I'm not like the others?_  
_What if I say I'm not just another one of your plays?_  
_You're the pretender_  
_What if I say I will never surrender?_

_In time or so I'm told_  
_I'm just another soul for sale... oh, well_  
_The page is out of print_  
_We are not permanent_  
_We're temporary, temporary_  
_Same old story_

_"The Pretender" by: Foo Fighters_

* * *

**Thank you to my awesome beta, **_**Believe In Fairy Tales, **_**she is amazing! **

* * *

**Chapter Eleven: I Decide to Get a Backbone **

I stormed to my room, sending murderous glares at anyone who crossed my path. They were wise enough to stay out of my way.

I shoved open my door and slammed it shut behind me, falling onto my cot with a huff. For the first time in a long while, I felt the sting of the stigma attached to my gender. Like I was nothing more than a weak woman in a man's world - my ideas, thoughts and inputs didn't matter; _I _didn't matter.

But no, the Mentor would say of course that wasn't true. The Creed was not about individual people, but working together as a whole; no one person mattered more above the rest. However, the Mentor had made it fairly obvious that, even as a part of the Creed, I wasn't an important one. Why should I put my life on the line for somebody to manipulate and use me for their own benefit? I work my ass off, to be what? A pawn in a stupid game that nobody knows the outcome of? Do we even know what we're fighting for? Do _I _even know what _I'm _fighting for?

A soft, persistent knock at my door snapped me out of my tumultuous thoughts. I sat up abruptly and called out a hoarse, "Come in."

Hesitantly, the door swung open and Kinja stepped in with a guilty smile on his face. It quickly disappeared when he saw my expression. He cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably, "I…um, wanted to see if you're okay."

I nodded stiffly, "I am fine. Don't worry about me." I forced a weak smile. "Congratulations on the mission and advancement in your assassin studies."

He shrugged it off and sat down next to me, his movements weary. "Are you sure you're okay? You look like you're about to cry."

My hand traveled to my eyes instinctively. I shook my head fervently in denial. "No. I'm not crying. I'm fine, really."

"But you're sad… your eyes have water in them," he persisted.

I forced myself to roll my eyes. "I'm not sad. Just…" I trailed off, pausing to think. I was emotionally exhausted from the roller-coaster my life had spiraled into since the Levantine Assassins had shown up. Everything just seemed to compound, and it crashed over me in one vicious wave of unwanted emotion. I choked, "Confused. Angry. I want to scream, cry, choke them, and beg them for this mission, this chance. And yet I know nothing I can do will change their mind. My heart seems too heavy to lift a sword to fight. It feels like my lungs have been filled with rocks and my brain hurts too much to think. I feel like I'm useless; like I'm a complete failure. What have I done to deserve all the scorn from everybody else? Is it because I'm a woman? Last time I checked, I can't control what gender I was born. If it's because I am not the same skin color – I can't change that about myself either. Is it because of my personality, my attitude? What do they want me to do? Conform? Give in and do what they say on command without question?" I snorted and looked sideways at the younger, silent assassin. "Can you believe that I wanted to be a scholar as a kid?" I scoffed. "Me? Sitting in one room all day studying words and math and the world from inside a room? When I grew into the Creed more I scorned my old thoughts - why sit down and question things when you could run around and never have to actually think for yourself? Life was so much easier. Now I look back and think that being a scholar of some sort would've been nice. Then I could have questioned things and learned and not had to worry about everyone trying to make me their slave."

"Save for the Nobles ordering your death for disloyalty to the kingdom. They'd see you as a threat." Kinja's reply was quiet. He didn't look at me.

"As if I'm not now?" I raised an eyebrow at him.

He cracked a smile, "You couldn't fight if you were a scholar."

I sighed, "But I would've been heard. Listened to. And then maybe some people could hear me. Here, I am mute; here, I am one person, but it's not who I really am."

Kinja dipped his head sympathetically and wrung his hands, "But we all fight for a better cause."

"What cause?" I snapped. "Tell me, Kinja! You obviously know something I don't, because in all my years of being in the Creed, I haven't _once _been told what we are truly fighting for. What is it? Are we fighting over land, weapons, supplies, resources? What? Are we all just dogs for whomever to call the shots? Mindless creatures that attack on command?"

Kinja stood up suddenly, eyes burning. "We all are one. We are all the Creed."

I stood up and waved my hands in the air dramatically, "What is the Creed then?"

He straightened and started repeating automatically, "There are three rules in-"

I cut him off. "That's not the Creed! Those are just the rules that bind us to it! What are all the people? Are we just playing pieces of a person with too much power? And if we are, why does _he _get the power, why not me? Do I not matter as a person? If I die in the Creed am I just a casualty of yet another blind Assassin or am I mighty warrior, who was sister to all?"

"How can you be so selfish?" Kinja bellowed, fists balled at his sides.

"Selfish?" I repeated in shock before my voice rose in pitch to match his. "Me? Selfish? I have worked my ass off for the Creed with nothing to show except disrespect and patriarchal views that hinder me from reaching my full abilities. I can be great - I _know_ it. I can be somebody worth knowing, a beacon. Somebody who _matters! _I could achieve so much more if I just knew what the hell I am doing! But nobody in this damned place seems to know jack-shit about anything going on and I find that _extremely_ suspicious!"

"So you're saying that the Creed is corrupt and _you _should be in power?" Kinja seethed, eyes narrowing suspiciously.

"I'm saying that I want the chance to be great, just like any _man _here can! And no, I'm not saying that the Creed is corrupt, I am saying that there is something more going on here that isn't quite right and it's starting to become increasingly more apparent, but everybody in this place seems oblivious!" I answered heatedly.

Kinja crossed his arms and scoffed. "Shut up, _woman. _Maybe this is why the Mentor doesn't allow you to leave - because you do more arguing than work!"

I opened my mouth to back out at him, but instead closed my mouth with an audible _click _and gestured towards the door. "Safe travels brother. I pray your mission is successful." I kept my tone flat and cold.

Kinja nodded and strode out the door without a backward glance.

I watched them leave from the rooftops near my room. Kinja was overeager in front of the more subdued Malik and Altaïr. Malik nodded slightly to the other assassins bidding him farewell and Altaïr seemed as distant as ever. I narrowed my eyes at Altaïr. Something was different about him…

It dawned on me as the three of them halted their horses in a straight line facing Al Mualim and the Mentor –

He was wearing the black robes and expensive armor I had given him. For the first time in a while, a smile curved my mouth. I quickly covered the lower half of my face to hide a giggle before forcing my face into a bored, indifferent expression. Still, a tiny snort managed to wriggle free. Kinja looked up at me – he made it so obvious, it was painful. He even turned fully in his saddle – it was if he'd never been taught to use his peripheral vision. I could almost picture his lips turn up in a slight snarl at me and his eyes narrow. Something said he was still mad about last night's conversation, but I was almost certain that he would forgive me while he was away. Rigidly, he turned back around to listen to the customary speech by the bureau leader.

A pang of jealousy flashed through me, then quickly became replaced my sorrow and regret. I was almost certain that my face showed my emotions like a painting. A sharp movement from Altaïr caused me to look at him; his head was cocked to the side and tilted slightly, though he still sat facing straight ahead. Two golden eyes caught the sunlight like coins, directed straight at me. Sure enough, he had noticed the interaction between Kinja and I.

I gave him a small two-fingered salute with a wry smile; I knew he'd probably see my expression with that eagle-eyed vision of his, even with my hood up. He sat up slightly straighter and blinked slowly in return, before returning his attention back towards the rambling old men.

And then the speech was over, and all three of them were racing into the sunset like the good little heroes they were.

I found myself packing my saddlebags in my room with a surprising amount of determination. My final decision had been that I needed a break, to experience the world a little before I decided to get any more caught up in this Assassin business. And if the Mentor didn't like it, well then he'd just have to deal with it. For the second time in two days, a knock at my door tore me from my reverie.

The door creaked open and Amelia and Raan stood in the doorway, both with worried expressions.

They took in my open saddlebags and the various items strewn about my floor and cot. "You're leaving?" Amelia inquired softly.

I nodded stiffly and turned back to packing, trying to stuff a crumpled blanket into my left saddlebag with little success.

She smiled softly and helped correct my sloppy folding. "Why am I not surprised?"

"Is that supposed to be an insult?" I snarled.

She shook her head and chuckled. It was Raan that answered for her. "We figured you'd snap and take a break soon enough. Honestly I'm surprised you lasted this long."

I remained silent and gathered the rest of my belongings.

"How long will you be gone?" Amelia spoke up again in a soft, soothing, motherly voice that she'd picked up while working in the library.

"One month. No more, no less."

"Where?"

I shrugged. "North. I'll end up where I'll end up. It doesn't matter where I go so long as it isn't here."

"Home?" Raan suggested.

I flinched as I thought of Sweden, where I grew up. It didn't hold the best memories for me and I had only gone back once since I was captured, but it didn't seem so much like home, but rather more as a place where I had once lived. "No. Not that far."

They both nodded and it was silent for a couple minutes. Raan coughed. "Well, I will go tell the Mentor that you're leaving. Safe travels, sister."

"Stay in good health, brother." I responded formally.

Amelia tackled us both and gave us one big hug. She was crying slightly, but gave a watery smile to me nonetheless. "Stay safe and be back within a month or I will go after you myself, do you understand?"

I rolled me eyes and smiled. "Yes, mother."

And so, with one final tight squeeze, I grabbed my saddlebag and headed out to the stables.

An assassin greeted me on the outskirts of town. I probably wouldn't have noticed him if he hadn't jumped in front of my galloping horse like a maniac and grabbed the reins, swinging the horse and I around quickly. The horse squealed in protest, jerking me in the saddle.

I frowned, regaining control of my horse and looking down at the stranger. The assassin grinned slowly up at me. I recognized him as Rjorn*****, an Assassin who liked to flirt with me the second after I had hit puberty. He took all my rejections in good humor and soon became somebody to pass time with, though not exactly a close friend. I tended to find his views of women and humor slightly vulgar, though he was a good storyteller.

He put on a pout much like Raan's. "Leaving me, my love? I'm heartbroken."

I rolled my eyes. This was not going as planned. "What do you want?"

He remained silent and instead diligently handed me a bulky messenger bag with multiple different packages in it. They were lumped together and stuck out at odd angles.

"What do you think I am? Saint Nick? I don't deliver presents."

Strangely out of character, he remained silent and stern looking. "They're not for delivery. Safe travels, sister." With that, he melted back into the shadows without a trace.

I tapped my heels lightly against the flank of my steed and pointed him in the direction I wanted him to go before starting steadily towards a random destination. As we moved slowly, I sifted through the bag.

The first thing I found was a small pouch filled with various precious-metal pieces that could be used as currency - specifically random jewelry pieces and coins and the occasional other valuable metals or gems. There was a lot and I searched for a sign of my benefactor. There was no note at all. I wearily placed the bag back, hating the feeling of owing someone for something… especially when I didn't know who it was I was indebted to.

The second thing I took out was a wooden box that had the same perimeter as a piece of paper, but about as deep as a thick tome, and surprisingly light for its considerable size. Double checking that my horse wasn't going to do anything stupid while I was distracted, I opened up the box. A note rushed out and I scrambled to catch it, my horse tossing his head up in distaste from the jerky movement. I just barely caught it, and brought it up to eye level to read. In neat handwriting, it said:

_First lesson: Trust yourself. – M_

I glanced down at the simple knife set within the box. They weren't meant to be used for killing people, but they were sturdy and obviously meant for training. In Malik's defense, however, he didn't exactly know that I was leaving and probably meant for me to practice on unmoving targets in the training area.

I moved onto the third thing I saw. It was a firmly closed leather pouch. I opened it slowly. A puff of a soot-like substance arose from the pouch and I sneezed and wrinkled my nose. It smelled like burnt wood and metal. It was powdery and unlike anything I'd ever seen. A small note stuck out from the powder. Soot was smeared over it but I managed to decipher it after squinting. _– A clue, my dear. _

I shook my head and moved onto the fourth pouch. Inside was a feather - an owl feather, to be specific. A note came out and in shaky handwriting it read _– Not all are blind, child._

Finally was there was a simple piece of paper at the bottom. It read: _You have allies. _

I glanced between the notes and rubbed my temples. This was gonna be one hell of a long month.

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*****Rjorn – pronounced: Ri-your-n


	13. Chapter Twelve: The Effects of Guilt

**Disclaimer: I claim no ownership of Assassin's Creed**

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**Warning: **These chapters are going to move a little fast, but they're setting up for a big chunk of the book and the series. **CHECK OUT CHAPTER NINE ~ Now re-uploaded & edited. **Thank you! This chapter, however, is **self-beta'd **

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_Got to fight another fight  
I gotta run another night  
Get it out  
check it out  
I'm on my way and I don't feel right  
I gotta get me back  
I can't be beat and that's a fact  
It's OK  
I'll find a way  
You ain't gonna take me down no way_

_Don't judge a thing until you know what's inside it_  
_Don't push me_  
_I'll fight it_  
_Never gonna give in_  
_never gonna give it up, no_  
_If you can't catch a wave then you're never gonna ride it_  
_You can't come uninvited_  
_Never gonna give in_  
_never gonna give it up, no_  
_You can't take me_  
_I'm free_

"You Can't Take Me" by: Bryan Adams

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**Chapter Twelve: The Effects of Guilt **

**Day one – 29 days left**

I spent three days heading due north at a slow and steady pace. When the sun set, I hopped off my horse and loosened its cinch before walking slowly; thoughts plagued my mind. Allies? A Clue? What was going on? I was yelling pretty loudly at Kinja; it would not have been difficult to hear the full conversation between us with my screaming. Eventually I grew too physically tired to move, so I collapsed on a simple blanket in the sand and drank a little water before staring at the stars and attempting to sleep, but it never came: my mind was too preoccupied.

**Day two – 28 days left**

I got up and packed quickly right as the sun peaked over the horizon. I didn't know where I was going specifically, but the thought of getting to a town soon seemed like a good idea.

**Day three – 27 days left**

I hadn't slept more than a blink of sleep in two days and I was started to feel exhaustion seep into my bones. Now I remembered why I didn't travel often: it was tiring. Perhaps I should've kept that in mind when becoming jealous at the boys' mission. I put my head down and gritted my teeth against the bright sun and hot wind. My assassin's robes hung off me; soaked in sweat. They kept me from burning in the harsh climate, but acted almost as an insulator for warmth.

A couple hours later, I reached a small town. It looked as if it couldn't support more than 500 people, but was alive and bustling in the dry heat. Woman wore clothes that covered everything on them except their eyes, and men wore light robes that looked considerably more comfortable than what the women were wearing. Some women were carrying jars on their heads and scholars walked with their heads bowed in groups of four.

I took my horse towards the stables and made sure he was going to be properly taken care of.

**Day Four – 26 days left**

I spent one day just exploring the town after sleeping on a rooftop. There was severe poverty and thieves around every corner. I recalled the one time I almost lost all my money:

_I was wandering around the richer part of town, though even there people practically wore rags and were severely malnourished. There were slightly thicker crowds near the bazaar where old fruit, stale bread, and drooping flowers were being sold. A man bumped me from behind and disappeared before I could say a single word. Suspicious, my hand floated towards where my money pouch would've been. _

_As I suspected, it wasn't there. _

_My eyes scanned the crowd before I decided to hop up on a roof to examine the people from above. Almost immediately after finding the higher ground, I say a slightly familiar man making his way quickly through the people. I hopped from rooftop to rooftop; buying my time and following him. Eventually he clambered up awkwardly to the rooftops and I took off towards him at full speed. I reached towards a throwing knife in my belt before thinking twice: he was probably starving or had a family. Killing wouldn't be right if he just wanted to survive. Instead I tackled him with a heavy grunt._

_He attempted to fight back before I pinned him almost easily. His face was haggard and gaunt. _

"_Please, have mercy!" He wailed._

"_The leather pouch that you stole from me; I want it and all of its contents back and you may go." I growled menacingly._

_He flinched but complied. The second I was sure that I hadn't been cheated of any money, I let him go and he shot off. _

**Day Five – 25 days left**

Much like the day before, I found myself wandering around the town. This time I was in the poorer districts. After wandering around until noon, I came across a slightly crowded place inside a large clearing. Large wooden cages sat on multiple stages; each holding separated men and women of different age groups. A white hot rage burned through my chest; nobody deserved to be locked away like animals. It was cruel and wrong.

A little girl screaming caught my attention; a burly man was dragging her away from her mom; who was currently chained up. She was fighting with all her might, but it wouldn't work. Automatically, I walked up towards the large man and tapped him on the shoulder.

He looked me up and down with an unreadable expression. "Yes?" He growled.

"I would like to buy that girl." I stated firmly.

He chuckled. "500."

I laughed. "250."

"450."

"300."

"370."

"325."

He let out a deep breath. "Deal." I shook his hand and kept a repulsed look off my face before handing him the money.

He gave me the screaming girl. She almost immediately started tugging painfully at my hair. I attempted to calm her down while struggling to get her fingers out of my hair. She couldn't have been any older than nine.

Her mom was still calling frantically. I turned towards the caged lady and we made contact briefly. I tried to transmit all my goodwill to her. She must've got the basic concept because she stopped calling and instead straightened proudly, even with tears in her eyes.

"Be a good girl, Cien*!" She called out.

"Mama!" The little girl cried and surged against me with surprising force. I grunted slightly.

"Shh… shh…" I rubbed her back slightly. "I'm here to help you." The words came out of my mouth without a second thought.

She sniffled slightly. "Really?"

I nodded overenthusiastically. Shit. "Don't worry, we'll get those people out of the cages!"

"Tonight?" She whispered.

I nodded again. "Tonight. But first, we need a plan. Can you walk?"

The girl, who I assumed was named Cien, nodded solemnly. "They're kept inside the buildings that were behind them at night."

Later that evening we snuck into the small clearing where the slaves were held. The slave women were supposedly being held in behind a thick wooden door that was locked from the inside, making it practically impossible to get in.

I turned towards Cien. "I need to get inside from the roof. You stay here and look out. If somebody comes bark twice like a dog and I'll do my best. Got it?"

She nodded. I gave her a quick squeeze before scaling up the walls of the slave house. It was easy compared to the buildings back home. A hatch on the top of the building made with rotting wood cracked with a firm kick, allowing me access to inside the building. I glanced around the perimeter before hopping inside the building. There, women were sitting somewhat peacefully in cages. They glanced up with fear in their eyes when I landed on the ground.

The woman I recognized as Cien's mom stood up and held the bars of her cage as I approached her.

"I am here to help you all escape." I kept my voice low and checked the around for anybody who might interfere.

There was ruffling as all the women sat up in attention. I spun in a full 360 at the center of the room and scowled in distaste. It would be impossible to break the wooden beams containing all the women.

"Do any of you see a chunk of metal that can be used as leverage?" I called out.

"In the corner," one of them answered.

I quickly found what I was looking for before I started prying at one of the cages. When I couldn't get it on my own, one of the women started helping. The wood groaned slightly in protest, but didn't budge. Out of breath, I released pressure for a moment. Some looked discouraged.

"Again," I huffed. It took about three tries, but the beam finally shattered, and I ducked out of the way. The woman who was helping me got a large splinter in her arm, but otherwise looked pleased. I took a chunk of wood from the ground and tossed it to another group. "See if that works."

Together, we made excruciatingly slow progress.

Two barks from outside made me freeze. I hushed everyone and with a renewed effort, got to work on the last cage. The last women hopped out. There was a jiggling of the lock at the door and I motioned for everybody to get back. I took out a throwing knife and prepared myself. The door swung open and not a moment afterward the slave keeper fell dead with a knife through his forehead. A woman sobbed lightly, but was shut up. I glanced around the open clearing for more men, but there were none in sight.

I started lugging the keeper towards the back of the room. Cien's mom helped me after a moment. I pointed towards the path that the women should take to escape the town and told them of an abandon village about 3 miles out with limited supplies. They seemed grateful and left quickly.

Cien's mother hesitated, though. "I want to thank you," she started.

"I did what I thought was right."

She nodded. "I love my daughter very much, but…" she trailed off, tears coming to the corners of her eyes. Her skin was dark and her eyes wrinkled around the sides from stess, but she held herself of the noble class.

"But…?" I pushed.

"I cannot support her away from here. I cannot feed her. I cannot help her. It's my duty as her mother to make sure she has the best chance at this world. And with me, constantly running isn't good enough for her. Please, take care of her."

I nodded. She suddenly turned around and lit some flint across the building. It didn't catch as quickly as it would've had there been a fire-starter on it, but it quickly started burning. I wasn't sure where she got it, but the wretched building went up in flames nonetheless.

"Say I'm dead. Say I died a hero. Please, as one last favor." She begged me harshly; her voice low and impatient; the fire was a signal and soon more people would come.

I nodded again; a sick feeling twisting in my gut. The woman smiled lightly before fleeing the scene. I ran away from the vicinity towards where Cien was residing. She looked up at me with hopeful eyes.

"Where's mom?" She asked innocently.

I choked. "She…" I trailed off; suddenly sure what to say. I recalled the earlier conversation with her mother and dipped my head. "I'm sorry. Everybody else got away, but the fire…" tears came to my eyes, but they were tears of guilt for the pain I was inflicting rather than the pain of death. "She was a hero, Cien. You should be incredibly proud of her." Her lips quivered before she started crying softly. "Please don't hate me." I pleaded and took a tentative step towards her. What had I done?

To my surprise, Cien hugged me instead. "You did your best. And one life lost for multiple is sometimes necessary."

I froze and thought of my selfishness when talking to Kinja. "You are wise for your age. It seems like you know more than me." I smiled softly.

We started working our way through the streets with tears running silently down our faces. People were by now running towards the burning slave buildings. Cien and I just walked slowly to the better part of town. An old man stopped us on an abandon street.

"What are you doing out so late, young ladies?"

I was too tired to lie, "We have no place to stay, sir."

He made a 'harrumph' sound in distaste before sighing in a put-upon manner. "Well, if your need for shelter is so desperate you may share a cot in my home for the night… but any night after tonight will cost you!" he warned.

"Thank you, sir." I smiled tiredly.

Instead he 'harrumphed' again and started leading us back to a small house. It was cozy, but rugged; obviously lacking a feminine touch. We said our thanks again before falling into a simple bed and sleeping away our worried. Guilt still plagued my dreams.

**Day 6 – 24 left**

I woke up with sand in my eyes and rubbed them methodically. When I sat up and looked around, I remembered last night. Cien was nowhere in sight. I sprang out of bed in distress and called out her name. "Cien? Cien! Ciiiiiieeeeen!" I screamed.

"Here!" a small voiced called out from outside the bedroom. Sure enough, there was Cien sitting down like nothing had happened at a small table with the old man from last night.

The man gave me a scowl before returning to his breakfast. I approached the table slowly before sitting down. A piece of bread and some water were shoved in my direction. I ate a piece and sipped at some water.

"Thank you for letting us stay last night Mr….?" I trailed off.

He just snorted. "Names are of no matter, child."

I nodded and studied the table shyly.

"Do you think we can stay here, Anima? Please? Just for a little while?" Cien pouted. It wasn't really like I was planning on leaving, but the idea of staying never crossed my mind.

I glanced at the old man. "What is your boarding fee?"

He shrugged. "How about 15 per week?"

I nodded. "Fair enough."

"He's a doctor, you know." Cien explained enthusiastically.

"Healer. I'm a healer. There's a difference." He old man explained with a practiced patience.

"And what would that be?" I inquired.

"Doctors bleed you as a treatment. Bah, if you lose blood when fighting and it's considered bad, why would you want to bleed willingly? No, no. I work in creating herb mixtures to heal."

"Will you teach us, please?" Cien interrupted. I shot her a glare; I really couldn't afford herbology lessons along with rent.

"As long as you don't make too much noise, you can watch and potentially learn as much as you want." He huffed.

"Thank you again for letting us rent out a room." I changed the subject quickly.

"Sure, sure. It was my daughters." A distant look caught in his eyes and Cien luckily took the hint to leave the subject alone.

**Day 9 – 21 days left**

Cien and I left one morning into the market to pick up herbs for the old man who had taken us in as apprentices of sorts. While there, we got into a fight.

A group of five men pulled Cien and I into an alley and circled us, knives in hand. Each smiled to each other with perverted grins. Cien shook at the knees and looked terrified; though I'm sure I didn't look much braver than her. I leaned down and told Cien, "Be prepared to run across the roofs. Go home. Don't worry about me."

Everything after that happened at once. One of the men shouted in protest and lunged. I picked up Cien and launched her towards the rooftops. She caught the edge and hauled herself up. I didn't have a weapon on me and faced the first guard with no weapon. The others stood back as I fought. They were better trained than I had expected and I was tired from lack of sleep. Soon enough the first man went down. Two others jumped in at his place. A shadow cast over the alley and I looked up for a moment; almost expecting Altaïr to come to my rescue. Instead Cien had come back with a tall boy, who looked frozen with fear.

My brief distraction was enough for me to get injured. A knife slid deep across my hand, through my wrist, and wrapped around towards my elbow. I felt it hit bone and gagged as a wave of pain quickly turned to nausea. I forced the bile down and instead let out an agonized shriek before returning the blow and killing him. I sidestepped, dodged, and whirled with all my might just like I had been trained to. These men were better fighters than I had ever faced before and I was getting nervous. Finally the last one fell and I clutched my left arm tightly; it was bleeding profusely and I needed medical attention quick.

I motioned for Cien and her friend to come down. They looked at me with awe.

"Where did you learn to fight like that?" The boy asked almost immediately.

I was making my way to the house quickly. "Back home." I answered briefly, starting to sweat from pain.

"Can you teach me?"

"Yeah, sure, whatever kid." I groaned in pain.

I made it to the doorstep before collapsing.

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**3****rd**** person POV**

It was chaos. Nobody knew what was happening, and those who did remained silent. The Mentor stood in front of the audience with a rigid posture.

"Where is she?" He questioned in an icy tone. "Where is she!" He then commanded.

"Sir, I saw her heading North yesterday morning, but that is all I know."

There was a sound of the crowd shifting.

A young assassin stepped forward. "Sir, I talked to her yesterday. She said she would be gone for a month, no longer, no less."

A girl stood up and put her hand on the man's shoulder. "She also said not to go after her."

"And you never told me?" The Mentor addressed the boy.

The boy shifted on his feed, "I told her that I would, but I decided that it wasn't my place to interfere last moment."

This time it was Al Mualim who stepped up. "Perhaps, allowing Anima to run off some energy would be beneficial for us all?"

The Mentor let out a deep breath before nodding. "There will be punishments. Mark my words; one of you will pay for your ignorance."

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***Cien = **pronounced: Sea-en

**A/N: **There you go, a longer chapter again. Be proud. Also, _anything that confuses you/ needs clarified? PM me so I can fix it! _


	14. Chapter Thirteen: The Words

**Disclaimer:** I claim no ownership of Assassin's Creed

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**Warning: Minor language. **

A big thanks to my beta, _Believe In Fairy Tales_, who has helped me so incredibly much! Be sure to PM her and give her a big thanks for making updates possible!

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**PLEASE READ! **

**PRIZE: **The book that I'm working on currently (since I've finished writing this one) has now been titled Scion , it is an Assassins Creed III novel. Whoever can 1) define 'Scion' and b) tell me _who _Scion relates to (hint: it has to do with spelling) will be able to read the full Scion book _before _it's published.

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**Chapter Thirteen: The Words I'll End up Eating**

**Day 9 – 21 days left**

I drifted in and out of consciousness after I collapsed. The old man who housed us was 'tsking' lightly while taking care of my wound. He put a bad smelling salve over it and I gagged slightly.

"Well if you hadn't gone and got in a fight, you wouldn't have to smell this shit, now would you?" He castigated me thoroughly.

"Is she awake?" A soft voice asked.

I saw the old man look towards the ceiling in annoyance. "Yes. I say you got about five minutes before she passes out again. Make it quick.

"Are you okay?" Cien asked softly; doe eyes inspecting me worriedly.

I nodded slowly my eyes found the boy in the corner of the room, standing awkwardly. "Who is he?"

"A friend." Cien answered vaguely.

"And your friend's name?" I directed the words at the boy, who looked up sheepishly.

"Cahil*****, ma'am."

"Call me Anima…" I fell asleep after that.

**Day 10 – 20 days left**

I spent the day crammed in the bed, sweating like a pig. I felt disgusting; I hadn't bathed since I left Georgia. The grit from sand an sweat and blood was still sticking to my skin like an extra layer of skin.

I was slightly grateful that Cahil and Cien tried to keep me company, but they got annoying after a while and I shooed them out. I did, however, find out that Cahil was 10, a total of one year older that Cien. He was also her cousin; bought as a slave from her mother's sister. His owner died and freed him in his will, however. They both shared the angular features and dark eyes along with light brown hair and cherub faces that wasn't common around these parts.

I groaned and glanced at my wrist. The old man told me that the knife I was cut with hit a vital spot, which made me lose a lot of blood quickly. I was also correct in my prediction that the dagger hit bone. The cut however, got infected deep within the muscle and near the bone according to the man's diagnoses. Even worse, he didn't want to dig around for pieces of dirt in my wrist and risk doing more damage. I never knew that infection from a nine inch gash could make your whole body feel like it was run over by a stampede of horses, but apparently it can.

Moral of the story: don't get in fights. That is unless you wanted to stay cooped up in bed and driven out of your mind with delusional thoughts and exhaustion.

**Day 13 – 17 days left**

I finally got out of bed and was deemed well enough to go outside. I knew how to do my bandages, clean my wound, and apply all sorts of medicine blind, with the rant the old man gave me. Of course, I feel like I jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire the second I stepped out of the house's immediately vicinity.

I was practically jumped by Cien and Cahil who insisted I taught them how to fight. I sighed and started running around the perimeter with two kids following me like strays.

**Day 14 – 16 days left**

"Keep running!" I hollered after them. "And Cahil! Watch out for that-" a loud _crack! _followed by a solid _thump _and _oomph _cut me off. Cahil hit the wooden beam full speed ahead and cracked himself in the ribs. "You okay?" I called out to him.

He gave me a 'thumps up' before dropping his arm again.

"Then keep going, you stupid _novice_!" I screamed at him.

When we got back with training the two were both exhausted, but insistent of pestering me with questions.

"Where did you learn to fight?"

"At home." I deadpanned.

"Where's 'home'?"

"South of here."

"Do other people fight there?"

"…Yes."

"Why?"

"We are call the Assassin's it is our duty to protect the people, sometimes even from themselves… We live by three rules: First, do not harm an innocent. Second, be discreet in your work. Third, do not compromise the Brotherhood." I sat down and trailed into the story I had heard multiple times throughout my life.

Cahil was silent for a long while after my story was done. "I killed my mother." He stated finally, his tone even. I glanced at him in surprise but said nothing in fear of a violent reaction. "She was sick… her mind was messed up. She'd hit me and hit me, then say she's sorry. Other days she'd scream in bed, clutching her head in agony. One day she begged for me to kill her. She told me she was sick and couldn't take it anymore." He shrugged casually, "So I did." His eyes came in contact with mine; an odd look was on his face. "Did I kill an innocent?"

I dropped my head… leave it to me to find the wise kid and the emotionally challenged kids in the village. "I do not know. I'm sorry."

"You said that sometimes you have to save people from themselves… and that's what I did."

I nodded slowly. "I suppose so. Sometimes you have to stand your ground and believe your side or people will walk all over you." I whispered slowly. "You did what you thought was right, and that's what matters I suppose."

"So… do you have any special weapons?" Cien asked slowly.

I nodded, "We have a blade that attaches to our wrist that makes assassinations easier."

"Cool! Can I see it?"

I shook my head no, "You don't get one until you're a full Assassin – level ten. I'm only a level seven mercenary. See, I have all of my fingers. When we get the blade our right hand ring finger get cut off so it may work correctly; a sacrifice of sorts."

The fire crackled, casting a haunting feeling throughout the small house.

**Day 15 – 15 days left**

"NOOOOOVVVVIIIICCEEESSS – if you don't get here within the next ten seconds, so help me I will lock you out of the house!" I screamed at the two children.

They both dropped down from the roofs with heavy _thuds. _I rolled my eyes, "Novices."

**Day 13 – 12 days left**

I watched as the two tripped over themselves before tumbling to the ground before me. I let out a frustrated sigh and hauled them both up with my good arm.

"We have a long way to go." I stated grimly.

**Day 27 – 3 days left**

I had spent two weeks switching between learning different herbs and training the two potential assassins to the best of my abilities. However, there were some things this small village and I could simply not provide to further aid their studies. They needed more room to run, more teachers to teach them new methods, more buildings to climb, and more places to free run.

So far I had just worked on the basics of hand to hand combat. We had spent hours upon hours of practicing how to land and roll and move efficiently and quickly. They caught on quick, but there was not much more I could teach them and they weren't ready for using weapons yet. I could only teach them so much. They could scale three story buildings and jump from rooftop to rooftop easily, but there was still so much I couldn't do for them.

Not only that, but I had failed to mention that I needed to leave tomorrow or else there would be the devil to pay if I arrived back late.

I sat them down at the dinner table. "Tomorrow, I need to start heading home. Back to my training grounds," I started quietly at dinner. You could hear a pin drop it was so silent in the room, "I promised I would be gone for a month; no more, no less. You may either come with me and further your training and risk never coming back, or you may stay here." There was no response. Both Cahil and Cien looked bewildered. I glanced instead to the kind old man who took us in. "Thank you so much for your aid and lessons. Unfortunately I am leaving tomorrow morning. I will forever be in your debt. Is there any way I can repay you?"

He cleared his throat. "Don't be going all mushy on me. You're supposed to be a warrior. I'm old; I don't need anything. Just leave. It'll be nice to get some quiet around here. Hell, take my horse with you. Lord knows I don't need the damn nag."

I nodded before looking back at the children. "I leave tomorrow at sunup whether you are there or not. You decide. Pack all of your belongings because you will not come back."

* * *

**Random POV – 3 days 'til Anima returns **

It was feeling like déjà vu. This time, however, it was a fully trained and amazingly deadly fifth rank, full Assassin who was well known for being cold hearted and bad tempered to begin with. At least the Mentor was still somewhat sane when he found out the girl was gone; this one, however, looked like he had lost his mind. Ah, yes; Levantine Assassin's at their prime.

"Where is she?" He roared at the Mentor in front of the gathering audience; assassin's blade swishing in and out by angry habit.

"Where is who, Altaïr?" The Mentor remained calm.

"The girl!" He growled; the clearing was silent and tense. Every word could be heard between the two.

An eyebrow was raised. "There are multiple girls here, which one in specific?"

"Anima! Where is she, dammit!" He lunged and snarled. The older man moved with practiced ease and dodged the potentially fatal blow.

His breath was ragged and harsh. His knuckles where white and his eyes glowed an eerie gold; the whites of his eyes were showing. He was quite clearly distressed – the poor man.

"Ah, yes. Anima. She left a day after you did. Headed North. To where specifically, I don't know. Said she'd be back in one month's time. That would be… three days from now, so you're wait won't be long."

"She can't survive outside of these walls! She's too young and inexperienced! She was supposed to stay with Malik!" The tall Assassin hissed; his voice taking on an animalistic snarl.

"Malik wasn't exactly here, now was he? And you can't expect me to allow the girl to sit around and wait. Anybody who knows Anima for more than a day knows the woman knows no such thing as patience. Besides, she is well trained and knows what she's doing." A practically inhuman snarl vibrated throughout the clearing. The Mentor sighed, "If she means so much to you, you have my permission to start searching for her. Malik, I suppose you go too because she's your student. Kinja, stay here."

With that, the Mentor descended to his office and the two high leveled assassins went to ready their horses in record time.

* * *

It was Malik who spotted the signs of her first after a two day's ride out of town cut in half by a treacherous pace for the horses. A small shack used by the nomadic herders on their yearly migration had three horses near it, though it wasn't the number of horses a single person would normally travel with, it was very likely that this was where Anima was staying.

He grunted and gestured towards the shack. It was close to the middle of the night and practically pitch black. They'd check the area and move on farther North. The horses nickered slightly when the two approached the run-down sleeping area. Altaïr grunted at the flimsy state of the shack; a good gust of wind would blow it down.

Malik watched as his companion opened the door silently and a look of pure relief crossed his face mixed with something that looked almost like compassion. He tied the two horses with the others before looking over his shoulder. The moonlight allowed him to see Anima, curled up with two other children; all were sleeping peacefully. The picture brought a soft smile to the hardened Assassin's face.

Together, they stepped into the shack and kept vigilant. One of the children looked up at them with surprise after an hour of being there; as if just then sensing their presence.

"We are allies." Altaïr stated firmly before the child could react. The child rubbed her eyes and nodded before going back to sleep.

* * *

**A/N: **Sorry it's so short, you guys. I just couldn't pin Altaïr's attitude down.

***Cahil – pronounced: Kaw-hill**

**PRIZE: **The book that I'm working on currently (since I've finished writing this one) has now been titled Scion , it is an Assassins Creed III novel. Whoever can 1) define 'Scion' and b) tell me _who _Scion relates to (hint: it has to do with spelling) will be able to read the full Scion book _before _it's published.


	15. Chapter Fourteen: A Puzzle Piece

**Disclaimer: **I claim no ownership of Assassin's Creed.

**Warning: **_Clarifying: _The Mentor is the big guy on campus, so to speak. A mentor, however (with the lowercase) is just another word for teacher. **Self-beta'd **

**PRIZE: **The book that I'm working on currently (since I've finished writing this one) has now been titled Scion , it is an Assassins Creed III novel. Whoever can 1) define 'Scion' and b) tell me _who _Scion relates to (hint: it has to do with spelling) will be able to read the full Scion book _before _it's published.

_Keep dodging lights.  
Like a thief in the night.  
The sun will rise and expose all our lies.  
So why deny that you and I lead different lives.  
The rivers from your eyes can't change my mind._

"So Long, Goodbye" by: 10 Years

**Chapter Fourteen: A Puzzle Piece**

***Anima's POV***

I woke up to the smell of food. My eye cracked open and I controlled my breathing so nobody could tell I was awake. A cloaked figure kneeled about three feet to the left of me. It was still early, so I couldn't make him out exactly, but my reaction to the stranger's presence was immediate. I shifted my weight and moved in to tackle him to the ground; the person's reactions were immediate and I got pinned down to the ground instead. In a frantic attempt to sit up, I heaved against the heavy weight against my chest, but it was too much weight for me to lift. After a giving up for a moment, I blinked slowly at a practically emotionless Altaïr. His eyes bored into mine before a small smirk appeared on his lips. I attempted to maintain eye contact and fight against him still, but after a few moments, I relaxed and gave up with a huff of indignity.

A war cry made both of us look up at Cien, who had grabbed a dagger she slept with and was now lunging at Malik with vicious intent. Malik looked un-amused and simply caught her hand mid-air, removed the dagger from her hand with a simple pluck, then dropped her. Cien rolled and stood up quickly before kicking in Malik's knee like I taught her at the beginning of training and tackling him as he fell. Malik grunted and felt a smile crack across my face.

"Atta girl, Cien!" I called out.

Quickly, Malik caught both of her hands and hauled her up so she was hanging off the ground. Cien looked obviously ruffled and gave Malik as close to a death glare as nine year old could give – which was much better than I would've thought. Malik gave her a death glare back. She just snorted and stuck her tongue out at him. He raised an eyebrow at her before giving me a scornful look. I shrugged and shifted my weight, suddenly _very _aware of Altair sitting on me, not only was he heavy, making it slightly uncomfortable, but I was also all too aware of his attractiveness. His hands were also holding each of my wrists; one was closed very tightly around my wound, which still ached no matter what I did to help it. The old man said that some things cuts never heal and since the wound got infected and was so deep, it would take a while to be able to be up to par. It still limited my mobility when fighting and swinging from beam to beam and climbing. The old man also said it would probably hurt for a long time since it wasn't healing properly, but there was nothing anybody could do about it but wait it out.

Another grunt came from Altaïr and suddenly his hips rammed into mine painfully. He grunted and I let out a low groan of pain. His elbow hit me in the breast, which hurt like hell and just as I thought his full weight would collapse on me, he caught himself and rolled away. Cahil was hanging off his back and neck like a rabid animal; knife dangerously close to Altair's neck. I don't know who I was more worried for.

"He's a friend, Cahil!" I yelled at him right as Altaïr flung him across the room like he didn't weigh more than a couple pounds. Cahil hit the wall with a painful 'crack' before landing on the ground and rolling into a crouching position much like Cien had moments before. Before I could get a word out, he ran directly at Altaïr, who picked him up from his collar and slammed him against the wall so hard that the wood groaned in protest. I could see his lips moving, but couldn't hear a word he was saying. Finally Altaïr let go of Cahil, who slid down the wall with a mocking look on his face. I rushed to his side and started checking him over. I knew that Malik hadn't hurt Cien, well save for her pride, but I doubted Altaïr was as sympathetic towards Cahil.

"Are you okay? Follow my finger…." I instructed, holding a finger in front of his face and moving it in the shape of a cross.

He slapped my hand away and hissed through his teeth at me before shoving me away and saying, "Fuck off. I'm fine." He stormed out of the shack – shaking with anger.

I almost started going after him to teach him a lesson about respecting his teacher, because had I ever done something like that to my own mentor, he'd knock me out cold. Instead I clutched my head, "Why do I always get the stubborn novices?"

Malik snorted in agreement and I looked at him with a guilty smile. "So… uh, teacher… mentor… whatever…. Sorry for running off? When do I start training?"

He gave me a warning look. "Get the horses ready, _Novice_." I locked my jaw and nodded. Cien made a subtle coughing noise. Malik only just now noticed he was still holding her before setting her down somewhat gently. I winked at her, "Nice moves, kid. Who taught you?"

Cien shrugged and played along. "Some random girl I ran into."

"Is that so?" I laughed.

Malik shot me a warning glance and I retreated back to the horses. When I was walking with the saddles a movement in my peripheral vision made me turn and meet whoever was attacking me head on. I threw Cahil to the ground with a grunt. He kicked me in the leg and I managed to pin him down. He grabbed my injured wrist and twisted. I let out a gasp of pain before shoving him down to the ground again.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I hissed at him. He glared at me instead of replying. I just rolled my eyes skyward and offered a prayer to whoever was out there before getting the horses ready.

Soon enough we were all moving relatively quickly back to the bureau. Malik had taken to helping Cien ride since she was still learning up ahead of our little group and Cahil was pouting a little ways off. This left Altaïr and I alone. It was him who started the conversation first, much to my surprise.

"Where did you get the kids?" He questioned gruffly. A slight tilt of the head from Malik up ahead let me know that he was listening to my answer too, all the while giving instructions to Cien. Something said he had a soft spot for the little girl.

I let out a deep breath I didn't realize I was holding. "I bought Cien off the slave market. She ended up being close friends with Cahil, who had nothing else to lose apparently."

"Where did you stay?"

"With an old healer who taught us some of his trade. Cien has a knack for knowing herbs and helping the sick or wounded." I shrugged.

By now the two kids were quite obviously listening to our conversation. Altaïr nodded slowly. "We can always use some more medics."

"Cahil's a good student, too. Learns very quickly, is quick to correct himself when he messes up, and is highly competitive." I flashed Cahil a smile, who straightened in the saddle a little.

Altaïr addressed the young boy, "You should be proud boy, Anima's one of the best Assassin's I know… especially for a woman."

I mimicked him, "Especially for a woman? Please, I am the _only_ woman assassin." I sent him a glare.

Again, a smirk appeared on his lips. "Yes, good for a woman."

"I am just as good- if not better- than any other _male _Assassin in my rank and probably above! Don't you dare use my gender as a limit to my skill!" I scoffed at the arrogant Assassin beside me.

He rolled his eyes at me and chuckled. Yes, ladies and gentlemen: an emotion besides death glares, emotionless bastard, and smirking. It was a miracle! "Men are far superior to women."

I scoffed, "Women may do just as much as men physically. We may not be stronger, but we a quicker and more emotionally stable."

"Emotionally stable? A woman? Weren't you the one who threw a world class hissy fit a month ago?"

"Weren't you the one who hit me when I saved your life a month ago?" I shot back.

He locked his jaw remained silent after that. That man! He rubbed my nerves the wrong way!

We got back safely a day and a half later. Upon entering the bureau, people glanced up for a moment before returning to their work quickly. I glanced at Altaïr, who looked like he was ready to kill anybody within five feet of him. I nudged my horse away from his presence and moved towards a moon-eyed Cahil.

"You like it?" I whispered at him.

He nodded slowly. "When do I get white robes?"

I laughed loud, earning a confused look from multiple people. "Let's talk to The Mentor first, yes?"

Without a second thought, I hopped off my horse, gathered my belongings, and started towards my room. It was only then that I remembered the pouch that Rjorn had given me before I left. It fell out of my saddle bag when I was unsaddling the horse. I felt guilty that I hadn't used any of the knives Malik had given me, but I shoved the pouch into the bottom of my bag and forgot about it until now. Carefully, I placed it in the bottom of my bag again and started towards my room. Malik almost immediately went straight to The Mentor's office. Altaïr wandered off somewhere with an unreadable expression and Cahil plus Cien followed me to my room and sat on my cot while I unpacked my things.

"Anima," Cien started in a small voice.

"Yes?" I answered slowly.

"What happens to us if this 'Mentor' doesn't want us here?"

I paused. "He'll let you stay. I'll make sure of it."

"But what if he doesn't?"

"We'll find out when we get there, okay?"

She nodded slowly and Cahil remained silent.

The Mentor's office hadn't changed since I had left.

I sucked in a deep breath as I swung open the doors. The Mentor, Al Mualim, Altaïr, and Malik were spread throughout the office and all looked up when the three of us entered the lavish room.

The Mentor rose to greet me. "Anima, I'm glad to see that you've finally returned." He studied Cien and Cahil for a moment before turning back to me. "And who would your companions be?"

I introduced them slowly. "Cien wishes to become a medic and Cahil an Assassin."

"Medics are always nice," he repeated Altaïr's words from earlier, "but the boy looks a little old to start training."

Cahil opened his mouth to say something, but I quickly shushed him.

"He learns quickly and is extremely diligent. I am positive he will make a wonderful Assassin."

The Mentor nodded. "Very well. I will have Amir start teaching him tomorrow." He told Cahil with an unreadable expression, "I trust Anima's words, boy. Do not disappoint me. Cien, Cahil. Please follow Malik." He turned to Malik, "Take Cien to Amelia, she will see to it that she becomes familiar with the layout. Then test Cahil's basic skills and report back to Amir and explain the situation."

It was silent for a while after the three left. A question soon popped into my mind, however. "What happened to Rjorn? I thought he was Amir's apprentice."

The Mentor let out a weary breath. "Rjorn is dead."

A wave of shock rocked me to the core. "Why? How? What happened?"

"He was accused of treason against the Brotherhood and hung while you were away."

"What type of treason?" My voice shook and pictures of him remaining silent and handing me the pouch flickered across my mind.

"Conspiracy against the Creed. Starting rumors that we were plagued with deceit and lies. Causing riots and speaking slander. He even went so far as to harm a fellow brother to practically the point of death." I couldn't believe my ears. Nausea coursed through my system and I could taste the bile in my mouth. I swayed. The Mentor noticed. "Are you alright? Please, sit, this must be a lot for you: sit down."

I nodded and lowered myself to the ground. Altaïr was by my side in a heartbeat and offered assistance, which I reluctantly accepted; I hadn't even noticed his presence. I offered a feeble smile to him and took a shuddering gulp of air. "I'm sorry. Rjorn and I were close friends. He didn't strike me as the type to betray the Creed."

The Mentor nodded in understanding. "Neither did I."

"Who was the man that Rjorn attacked?" I asked shakily. My stomach turned and I felt more bile rise into my mouth, which I quickly shoved back down. A hand on my shoulder steadied me. I didn't need to look up to know that it was Altaïr supporting me. I leaned against him while he hovered above me; I was too shocked to support myself anymore.

"Vidmen." He responded curtly.

"May I please speak to him?"

The Mentor looked down and shook his head. "He seemed quite alarmed at the attack and didn't feel safe here anymore. I'm afraid he traveled to Levantine as soon as he healed enough."

After a couple minutes of silence it was Al Mualim who spoke up. "On a better note, it has come to our attention that Afzal, a conspirator with the church, has come back from hiding. We want you to go assassinate him once you have slept and eaten."

I nodded slowly before drifting off to sleep.

**A/N: **Well, what do you think? We got to see a little more of Cahil and Cien's attitude, plus some foreshadowing and a slight cliffhanger. Plus, Altaïr isn't being a jackass 24/7 now… and Malik actually has a slight soft spot for someone (but not in a pedophilic way). Besides, who can't _not_ like Cien? She's so amazingly cute! She kinda reminds me of a lightly more lighthearted Malik. It's weird because I never planned her to be like that.

**PRIZE: **The book that I'm working on currently (since I've finished writing this one) has now been titled Scion , it is an Assassins Creed III novel. Whoever can 1) define 'Scion' and b) tell me _who _Scion relates to (hint: it has to do with spelling) will be able to read the full Scion book _before _it's published.


	16. Chapter Fifteen: Anima, the Original

_I really liked writing this chapter. *Evil grin* _Oh, and I apologize for taking so long to update. You know how life kinda sneaks up on you and suddenly everything is rushing by you? Yeah, well writing has been the last thing on my mind for the past month or so. **SORRY! **

**Disclaimer: **I claim no ownership of Assassin's Creed.

**Warning: **I think that Malik only turns completely bitter after his brother dies and since he lost his arm. So since this is the prequel of sorts (even though this is an AU), I wanted to make him a little more arrogant like Altaïr. This chapter contains some **bad language **(which you should probably be used to by now). **Please help: **Answer _one _question for me at the bottom of the page. **Self-beta'd. **

**PRIZE: **The book that I'm working on currently (since I've finished writing this one) has now been titled Scion , it is an Assassins Creed III novel. Whoever can 1) define 'Scion' and b) tell me _who _Scion relates to (hint: it has to do with spelling) will be able to read the full Scion book _before _it's published.

**~*~*~***  
_Sometimes it's hard to just keep going  
But faith is moving without knowing  
Can I trust what I can't see?  
To reach my destiny  
I want to take control but I know better_

_God, I want to dream again  
Take me where I've never been  
I want to go there  
This time I'm not scared  
Now I am unbreakable, it's unmistakable  
No one can touch me  
Nothing can stop me_

"Unbreakable" by: Fireflight

**Chapter Fifteen: Anima, the Original Novice **

I woke up in bed and groaned; the light made my temples throb. I glanced out the window to see the curtains shut firmly. Slowly, I sat up and opened them. The sun was high in the sky and the grounds below were bustling with lots of mid-afternoon activity. Assassin's were strolling across rooftops and climbing up buildings like it was a perfectly normal way to travel – and for most Assassins, it was. I hopped out onto the balcony and rubbed my eyes; savoring the slight breeze.

"Nice to see you again, Anima." A random Assassin who was walking on the roof above me called out. I smiled slightly and gave a half-hearted wave.

I sat with my back against the warm terracotta colored bureau walls. An Assassin quickly jumped onto my balcony with a little extra spring in his step. "Anima! Rumor has it you are back! And they were right, here you are!"

I looked up and saw Raan. I hadn't recognized him at first; his hair was less shaggy and his robes were different. "You moved up a rank!" I smiled warmly at him, despite jealousy raging throughout my veins.

He nodded. "Yup, I tracked down a pretty big weapons caravan and took down the man in charge. The Mentor was impressed and well," he shrugged casually, "here I am. But enough about me. How have you been?"

"Good, I have a mission later tonight."

"To kill Afzal I assume."

I nodded. "Yeah. Hopefully I get bumped up a rank after tonight."

Raan's face morphed into something different. "I hope so too. Well, I have to go. If I don't see you again before your mission, good luck!"

"Thank you!" I called out as he hopped off the balcony to the courtyard two stories below.

I stretched like a lazy cat; savoring the warmth and my back popping. It was a good day. I was _sooo_ tired; I could've just fallen asleep like this and never woken up again. My eyes slipped a little. I had slept more within the past 24 hours than I had within the past month, which was not good; I felt tired all the time now. Between Cahil's mood swings and sadistic attitude, to Cien's constant avoidance of problems (aka: me) through working, to being trained by Malik, who might just be one of the hardest people to read on the face of this planet, I was exhausted. Altaïr was just a cold blooded jackass, but Malik; you just couldn't tell. He was either serious or put-upon or a complete smartass.

A commotion from below caught my attention. It seemed like Cahil had let a horse out – who was now running through the center of the bureau.

"NNNNNOOOOOVVVVVIIIICCCEEEE!" I screamed at Cahil, who was chasing the horse like his life depended on it – and it probably did in one way or another. A flock of crows flew up a couple rooftops away and multiple Assassins looked up with bemused expressions.

"It's no use." My head snapped up and I heard a _crack _in my neck. Altaïr was sitting next to me; I couldn't see his eyes with his hood up, but the corner of his mouth was pulled up in a smirk.

"How do you sneak up on me?" I threw up my hands in exasperation.

"There is still much you need to learn…" Malik said from next to me. I looked at him and narrowed my eyes. How did they move so quietly in full armor? "…_novice._" He taunted me.

I jumped up. "Hey! Novice is _my_ word! Don't steal it!"

A smirk from now Malik, "I am your teacher, therefore I may call you whatever I wish. Do you understand, Novice?"

I scowled in response. "Where did you even learn that word?"

"Everybody in the courtyard just heard you." He pointed out.

I rolled my eyes. "Well he _is _a novice. I, however, am not."

A wicked smile came onto Malik's face and Altaïr shifted slightly, bumping me with his shoulder. "New teacher, new sheet. Congratulations, you are now starting over. If you would please remove your weapons…" Malik held out a hand.

I felt my jaw tick. "You can't be serious."

"Oh, I am." Malik deadpanned. I looked at Altaïr for support, but the jackass just crouched there; seemingly oblivious to the conversation and instead looking over the clearing with those stupid golden eyes of his.

"But I've worked so hard…" I whined slightly.

"And you've also learned bad habits." Malik stated matter-of-factly. I gave him a death glare before removing anything that signified my ranking and all of my weapons without a word. "Thank you, _novice._" Malik chuckled.

I let out a huff and crossed my arms over my chest, which now felt rubbery without my upgraded armor.

"We need to start heading out to the meeting where Afzal is located if we want to catch him." Altaïr broke the silence.

I gave him a glare, which he readily met before snapping my eyes away and hopping into the clearing below. I sneered at Altaïr and Malik as they landed effortlessly behind me.

"First lesson, _novice: _landing. Next time distribute your weight more evenly. Bend your knees less and roll onto the balls of your feet to absorb most of the shock before standing up... use your hands to help with balance if you have too. Keep your shoulders squared off instead of hunched down and in. Go do it again."

I gave him a supreme you've-got-to-be-kidding me glance before locking my jaw and climbing back up onto the balcony; my wrist screaming in protest. Technically, I wasn't supposed to be using it. I was also supposed to tell The Mentor about it, but I kinda blew that out of the water too. Hey, in my defense I _had _taken it easy on my wrist since I injured it; I hadn't been fighting with it or climbing with it at all, plus I changed the bandage regularly, kept it nice and clean, and used the ointment as the doctor said. As a matter of fact, I had just been letting it sit around and instead resorted to doing everything with my opposite hand. But that's the price you pay when you get your hand practically amputated.

I jumped again off the balcony and landed how they told me to; landing more like a cat than anything. I gritted my teeth as I pitched forward when my legs took most of the impact. Like Malik said, I used my hands to brace myself; my wrist practically giving out as I did. Quickly I stood up and walked over to the awaiting two.

Malik gazed at me. "Good enough. You'll get better with practice." I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and instead nodded obediently.

We made our way to the banquet Afzal was hosting. There were occasional quips by Malik such as 'don't hold too tight; your fingers will lock up' or just an exasperated '_novice'_', which I chose to ignore. Altaïr remained silent and kept directly two feet to the left of me at all times as Malik led the way; about five feet in front of me at all time. I inhaled a deep breath and pushed myself forward, pulling up beside him. My legs strained to keep up with his longer strides and I used my whole upper torso for momentum.

He sped up and I put my head down and passed him with a tremendous effort. I didn't risk glancing behind me, or even up for that matter. I probably should've because I would've seen the gap in front of me. And instead of assuming that I was just jumping from another rooftop at and even level, I slammed straight into a wall before scrambling in mid-air to catch the ledge above me. I did; with my bad wrist and almost screamed in agony as I felt something tear and pop in it. I threw my other hand on the edge and pulled myself up.

Needless to say I got the speech of my lifetime as soon as I got to the top of the taller building; _look where you're running… stupid novice… sloppy.._. Altaïr blinked at me slowly throughout the speech as I attempted not to draw attention to my wrist, which was quite sufficiently fucked. I'm pretty sure he saw the tears in my eyes though as I forced back the embarrassment and agony.

"… and this is why you never, need I repeat myself? _Never _run with your head down! …novice."

My jaw ticked and I nodded slowly.

We continued making our way to the banquet and thankfully I didn't have to climb anything. My wrist had settled to throbbing and feeling feverish.

After what seemed like forever we got to a large outdoor amphitheater, which currently held about three quarters of the town's population, along with our current target.

There were some crates stacked on top of each other, which made some distorted steps up to the top of the building. Thankfully the climb could be completed with one wrist, which Malik didn't notice. The three of us stood shoulder to shoulder; myself in the middle, and we together scanned the crowd. Altaïr was the one that pointed Afzal out after a moment.

"There." He motioned to a slightly more elegantly dressed man in the crowd among a large group of people. I glanced at Altaïr sideways. How did he see him so fast? Malik nodded slowly before turning to the two of us and explaining in a low voice.

"I am going to clear the south exit of guards so you, Anima, may escape easily." Malik's dark eyes locked straight in with mine.

I paled before nodding slightly. "Why me? I'm just the novice here. I'm sure Altaïr will more than suffice. Besides, I learn best when seeing somebody do it before me. You know, lead by example? Maybe next time…" I rambled. Why was I so nervous? I had done this more than once before.

Malik let out a deep breath and placed his hand on my shoulder; holding me steadily at arm's length. "I am more than aware of your physical capabilities and learning styles, Anima, and I know you can do this. You've jumped off buildings twice this height onto a moving target before. Now you get a _standing _target. Seize this opportunity for practice."

The word 'practice' made a sour taste in my mouth. "But I only did that because I had to." I mumbled.

"And now you have to do it again." Malik finished before turning away and walking towards the exit he was clearing for a clean escape.

I looked up at Altaïr, who had remained as silent as ever during the interaction; eyes burning molten gold in the darker lighting. I nodded to myself before reaching for my dagger, then stopping short when I realized I didn't have one; I had to do this with bare hands – just as all other novices did; a quick snap of the neck. Painless. Easy. Bloodless.

I crouched and started moving silently along the roofline towards where Afzal was chatting with others. I flinched and froze every time he glanced away from the group – even if it was for a mere moment. When I was finally in the perfect position for an air assassination, my entire body locked up and I couldn't make myself move at all. What was worse was that Altaïr was assessing every move I made.

I clenched and unclenched my fists and forced myself to take deep breaths. I found myself rocking on the balls of my feet instead of actually jumping. I rolled my shoulders slowly and hesitated before getting ready to jump again. A warm presence behind me made me stop. I felt Altaïr crouch behind me. He put his chest to my back and the fabric covering his cheek touched my face. His hands were resting softly on my hips; steadying me slightly. Naturally, I inhaled a deep breath through my nose; the smell of cooking spices and musk made me dizzy much like the day I had gone with Altaïr to retrieve his armor – which he wore ever day now, might I add.

"Relax." Somehow his body heat worked its way into all the muscles in my back, making them feel loose. I nodded slowly. His voice was rough, but soothing. Like cool sand on a hot day. "Take my dagger." A blade hilt was placed in my good hand; it was slightly warm and heavier than the one I normally used. "You've successfully done this before. Do this for the Creed." Flashing back to my conversation with Kinja from before I left, I instinctively tensed up again. Soothing circles started being rubbed into my back and it took most of my willpower not to arch into them like a cat.

Again, Altaïr spoke. "Land like Malik told you, but this time on his shoulders. Use him of a hay stack of sorts," I sensed him smirk slightly. "Then run."

I took sight of my target once more before nodding – this time with confidence- and launching myself off the building to make one of the best assassinations ever in my opinion. Everything went perfectly.

That, was until, at least, my wrist gave out while running.

I ran through the exit, adrenaline rushing through my veins. I could hear everything, see everything, hell, I could even _smell _everything. A wicked grin was slapped across my face and I sprinted faster than I ever had before to where Malik was waving me over.

The first building to climb up with guards chasing us, I didn't think twice about my wrist.

The second building to climb up my wrist gave a slight twitch, but was otherwise fine.

The third building to climb up my wrist started pulsing and feeling like it was on fire.

The fourth building to climb up my wrist was slowing me down greatly and Malik and Altaïr were obviously slowing down to ensure my safety as guards started catching up.

By the fifth building I realized that I was not going to make it and I was risking Malik's and Altaïr's safety. Still, I tried. I was halfway up when my wrist gave out and I dropped onto a lower ledge and barely landed on my feet; the guards within swinging range of me.

I looked up at Malik and Altaïr; who just were hanging and starting to come help me. Instead I screamed up at them, "Go ahead! I'll meet you back at the bureau. My wrist hurts too much to climb!"

Without waiting for them to reply, I heaved myself over the edge to a three story drop; landing quite nicely, before taking off with a group of guards at my heels. I kept my head up while running, but risked a glance at the two Assassin's retreating forms. Malik was struggling to pull Altaïr towards the bureau. I smiled to myself before heading to the bridge where I saved Altaïr's life. I jumped into the river and after about five minutes of treading water with the guards searching for me, they presumed me dead.

I lugged myself onto the shore before taking a deep breath and falling asleep near the bridges wooden support beams. I'd head back to the bureau tomorrow and deal with the hell from Malik later. I shivered and wrapped my soaking cloak around me before drifting off to a feverish sleep.

**A/N: **I feel like something as minor as even a sprained wrist (which Anima's wrist is much worse than that) would be deadly to an Assassin. Because once you start losing mobility and the pain starts rendering your abilities – you're pretty much screwed. Right?

_Now, that little moment between Altaïr and Anima; do you love me, or do you love me? Because I almost didn't put it in there. _

**Question: **How badly do you think a completely swollen and infected wrist will slow down an Assassin? Now I'm not talking about Altaïr's super healing skills, but your Average Joe Assassin – like Anima.

**PRIZE: **The book that I'm working on currently (since I've finished writing this one) has now been titled Scion , it is an Assassins Creed III novel. Whoever can 1) define 'Scion' and b) tell me _who _Scion relates to (hint: it has to do with spelling) will be able to read the full Scion book _before _it's published.


	17. Chapter Sixteen: Assassin's Aren't

**Disclaimer: **I claim no ownership of Assassin's Creed.

**Warning: Language. **I imagine the Georgia bureau much like the Levantine one; large, obvious, and in its prime. It's not like a secret hiding spot with so many Assassin's running in and out, but the towns people rarely speak of it so word of its presence rarely gets out. **POP QUIZ: **_You will read about a character in this chapter that is mentioned briefly in Assassin's Creed II; what was this character known for? Need a __**hint **__after reading this chapter? Go to the bottom. _

**~*~*~*~'**

Of course, I tip my hat to **Believe in Fairy Tales**, who is my ever-diligent beta.

**vvv *This song was my summer jam… just sayin'* vvv **

_If I could write to the kid I was before  
I'd tell him you'd get everything you ever wanted  
But you will still want more.  
Someone's gonna tell you  
Who you should wanna be  
So you forget the vision that they didn't want to see  
And when they give up, 'cause they will give up say  
"Here I am alive"._

_They say you don't grow up you just grow old  
It's safe to say I haven't done both  
I made mistakes, I know, I know  
But here I am alive.  
So many people close to me cut me down  
This is supposed to be a bad luck town  
I jumped, I fell, I hit the ground  
But here I am alive._

"Here I Am Alive" by: Yellowcard

**Chapter Sixteen: Assassin's Aren't Elegant**

I woke up with a dry throat and feeling like shit. I tried to stand up but my vision grew blurry where I couldn't see even an inch in front of me. I dry heaved for an indefinite amount of time before staggering into a standing position and using the wooden beams of the bridge as a crutch. I stood with my head pressed against the cool wood, regaining my balance before starting to head towards the bureau. The normally passive-aggressive citizens of town near the bureau now stood with their backs against the street walls, pointing and whispering to one another. Nobody bothered to help my practically drunken stumbling. I even fell to my knees and dry heaved a couple times and nobody helped me. My location was too far away for any patrolling Assassins to help me. I wanted to start crying and screaming for help, but an Assassin caked in blood, puke, and sand wasn't much of a pity case in town. Plus I refused to swallow my pride.

After five more minutes of stumbling through town, I got help from an unlikely case. The girl who I had given money to on when waiting to meet Altaïr for his armor came and placed herself underneath my arm; supporting me with a surprising amount of strength. She wrinkled her nose in disgust before looking up at me and smiling shyly.

"You help me, and I'll help you."

I nodded slowly before gesturing towards where the bureau was located and we started shuffling there. When we got to the base of the bureau entrance, one of the guards stepped forward and started helping me on my other side. He nodded briefly to the little girl helping me with a sparkle in his eyes. I couldn't remember the man's name through my struggle to remain upright, but I knew he had a daughter around the age of the girl who was helping me.

Which reminded me, "What is your name?" I rolled my head towards the girl I gave money to.

She jutted her chin out proudly. "Novella, ma'am."

"Call me Anima." I replied before we finally made our way inside the main part of the bureau and Novella's eyes became as wide as saucers.

All of the Assassin's lounging around looked at me wearily. One of them got up and started running ahead of us to The Mentor's office. Another got up and headed towards the training ring. I was being dragged up the stairs after a moment. Dazedly, I heard the calls for the Mentor ahead of me.

When I was lugged through the doors into the Mentor's office, Altaïr was already there with a deadly look on his face and Malik looked well, pissed - to say the least.

The Mentor examined me up and down before looking at Novella and running a hand through his graying hair. He dismissed me with a flick of the wrist after an exhausted sigh. Altaïr stepped forward and plucked me out of the grips of my two temporary assistants. I saw Malik roll his eyes skyward before offering a hand to Novella, who begrudgingly took it. The two of them walked off to I would assume to be Amelia or Cien. Altaïr, however, took me in the opposite direction to my room.

He set me down carefully on my bed before turning to accept some tea that a random working lady had brought to my room. I drank it with some help sitting up with some help from Altaïr. He was silent as he took off my filthy robes; leaving me in men's trousers and a lightweight shirt that fell past my fingertips.

My head had by then cleared up slightly with the help of the tea. I instinctively snapped my hurt wrist away from him when he reached for it. Instead of taking that as a warning to leave my wrist alone, he grabbed it carefully and rolled up the sleeve of my shirt. The bandage that I had been wearing was worn and had seen better days. He unwrapped it slowly and I almost gagged when the smell of rotting flesh as the infection reached my nose. I was too scared to look at my wrist, but I made myself anyways.

The place where I had been stitched back together less than a month ago was brown and black and yellow. It was also hot and oozing random stuff. The stitches that were supposed to be removed by Cien in a week from now were torn and I could see a glimpse of bone and inflamed muscles. Dead flesh hung off the stitching and the rancid smell almost made me puke.

I made a point of not looking at Altaïr or the wound. That was until Altaïr gently grabbed my chin and moved my face towards his. He looked livid. No, more than that; he looked absolutely _feral. _His lips were pulled tightly over his teeth; giving a hauntingly good impression of a snarl. Altaïr's eyes were glowing with unfiltered rage. The pure intensity of his eyes as they seared into mine made me look away after a moment. His fingers applied a slight pressure to my chin, making me glance back up at him again. This time his eyes entranced me and kept me there.

"What happened?" The two words were practically undistinguishable; a deep bass that came from low in his belly that rumbled throughout his whole being. It was a voice I'd imagine the devil would have because there was a slightly seductive ring to it that made me shudder, and yet it was merciless and promised death.

I briefly noted that I probably had necrophilia, but _damn _the boy was hot when he was mad.

"When I was away for a month I got in a fight with some men. One of their daggers caught my wrist. A doctor I was learning from stitched me up."

"How long ago?" His eyes were still connected with mine and still molten gold colored.

"Roughly three weeks." I shrugged casually.

He let go of my chin and used the hand to trace lightly around my gash. "You weren't supposed to use this wrist while it was healing." It wasn't a question, but a statement.

"No, I wasn't." I admitted.

"But you did." His voice was monotonous now and he moved his eyes towards the wound.

"Only on the mission!" I explained myself quickly. "Otherwise I didn't use it at all. I wrapped it and did everything the doctor said. I didn't use it for three weeks! It was supposed to be healed better, but-" I cut myself off.

"But?"

I shook my head and looked down. "It isn't healing correctly. Even doing everything the doctor said, it just isn't getting better. He said- he said that the infection was deep and it may never heal. I figured that I could do just _one _mission on it and it wouldn't do any damage."

"You never told anybody."

"Cien and Cahil knew, they just never mentioned it. I didn't think it would affect me this badly. Besides, I've gotten worse injuries and recovered perfectly."

The woman who brought me my tea stepped into the room to collect the dishes, took one look at my wound, then turned without a word and walked away. A moment or two later, she returned with a pouch full of medical supplies and equipment along with a bowl full of warm water.

Altaïr took the pouch silently and glanced at the woman, who was now blushing. She retreated quickly and he pulled out a clean rag before dipping it into the water and cleaning off my wrist. I attempted to keep in the hiss of pain, but failed miserably. He kept cleaning the wound steadily. To distract myself, I started talking again.

"What does Malik think?"

"He's worried for you, but not showing it." He answered fully, his voice regaining his normal baritone.

I chuckled. "In other words he thinks I'm insane and a novice?"

Altaïr actually gave a smile at the comment, albeit a brief one. "No, but _I _think you're insane."

"I'm pretty sure everyone here does." I laughed slightly before wincing when Altaïr prodded the deep gash. It ran through the meat of my palm, the prominent tendon in my wrist, and wrapped around slightly; running about 5 inches long. It was hard to open and close my hand because my palm was swollen from infection also; my fingers were purplish. Altaïr then took out something that smelled strongly of alcohol. I braced myself against the burning feeling.

He glanced up. "Besides your wrist giving out, what happened last night?"

"I ran away from the guards and jumped in the river."

"That explains the infection and fever."

I nodded. "Don't worry; I try not to make a habit of it. That is, unless I'm saving some idiot Assassin's life in one way or another." Altaïr tensed and I did the same in response. He glanced up at me. It was quiet for a couple minutes besides me hissing as Altaïr tended tediously to my cuts. I would even go so far as to say that it was peaceful and comforting.

Kinja suddenly burst through the room with a wild look in his eyes before tackling me and pinning me to the bed. He had grown within the month I was gone. I howled in pain as he put his hand directly on my gash and his weight made all the air rush out of my lungs. Almost as quickly as pinned me, he was thrown against the wall by a murderous looking Altaïr, whose hidden blade was out and against his throat.

"At ease," I choked out.

Altaïr reluctantly backed away before starting to tend to my wounds all over again; re-washing them with warm water and applying some type of numbing ointment that I hadn't been aware even existed on them.

"Kinja." I nodded towards him.

"What the fuck, Anima? I leave with us pissed at each other, come back to have you missing completely, then you get back and right as I come looking for you, you supposedly ran off injured again and were nowhere to be found! I thought you had died!" He choked out before shoving past Altaïr to hug me. Again, Altaïr threw him into the wall, this time with a considerable bit more force. Kinja sprang up and gave a death glare at Altaïr who was shaking with rage.

I reached over slowly and tugged on his robe. Kinja gave me a grateful glance before giving me a 'this isn't over' look and hopping out of the room temporarily.

"Where's Malik anyways?" I turned my attention back towards Altaïr.

"Speaking with The Mentor, Al Mualim, Amir, and some other full Assassins."

I nodded slowly. "How are Cahil and Cien coming along?"

"Cien is enjoying her medicine studies."

"And…" I prodded.

"She's an excellent free runner."

I snorted. "Of course she is. I taught her."

Altaïr smirked. "I'm aware of that; she brags about you whenever we compliment her skills."

"Hopefully I have nothing to do with her when she does something wrong." I joked. Altaïr let out a deep chuckle. "And how is Cahil?" I asked innocently.

"Stubborn. Proud. Ignorant. Impatient."

"Reminds me of someone I know." I laughed.

A scoff came from Altaïr. "I wouldn't suggest talking about Malik like that."

I rolled my eyes. "I was talking about you, silly."

"Me? Never." He joked back.

Just then Malik strode into the room and Altaïr straightened from cleaning my wounds. "I heard my name. I can only assume they were used along words of praise." He didn't wait for a response before cutting to the chase, "I just finished conversing with the others about Trystan. We have evidence that he fled from his hide out in the mountains a half day ride from here last night after he heard news of Afzal's assassination."

"To where?" I asked.

"We don't know." An annoyed look crossed Malik's face. "We'll have to force him back here, because these are obviously his headquarters. However, we have news of his suppliers that need assassinated, which will make it harder for him to work away from base. If we cut all his ties, he'll have to come back himself to mend them."

"How long will that take?" I shifted uncomfortably.

"Matters how long it takes for news to reach him after the deaths. Could be days, could be months." Malik glanced out of the window.

I sighed. "We'll have to lay low for a while."

Malik made a sound of agreement. "Unfortunately. Well, I must leave now." He turned to leave before hesitating. "Oh, and novice?"

I took a gulp of air before nodding slowly. "Next time tell me if you're injured."

Altaïr let out a deep huff after Malik exited the room.

"So…" I started awkwardly, "how about more swimming lessons?"

He glanced down at my injured wrist. "Sure."

I blinked slightly. What just happened? Where had that come from? And wasn't I not supposed to get my palm wet? What?

As if I wasn't confused enough before…

I mean, how random can I be?

_Do you want swimming lessons? _

**!*!*!*!**

I groaned and slipped into the warm water with a sigh. I was on the brink of sleep before the door slammed open and in rushed a very irritated looking Amelia, a confused Cien, and a still awestruck Novella. I sunk lower into the bath.

"Hey…" I started lamely.

Amelia walked right over to me and slapped me. I blinked up at her before she hugged me; getting her clothes wet.

"Are you on your monthlies or something? Or have you finally just lost your damned mind?" I questioned her while rubbing my cheek.

"A little of both, dearest." She answered flippantly. "Anyways; big news."

"What?" I sighed irritably.

"Altaïr is head over heels for you."

And then I fainted. Thankfully the girls were there or I would've drowned.

* * *

**Hint: **This character was a part of Ezio's quest for Altaïr's armor. _Read the warning at the beginning. _

**HEY! Check out this book about Assassin's – It's really great:**

_The Way of Shadows_ by: Brent Weeks

**IT'S AWESOME! **


	18. Chapter Seventeen: Cat and Mouse

**Disclaimer: **I claim no ownership of Assassin's Creed.

* * *

**Warning: **I think you guys will like this chapter. And we're so close to the end of this book. Only 23 chapters - then the sequel! Are you ready because after this chapter, the plot enters the homestretch! **Important note at the end of this chapter?**

* * *

**First – **I'm sorry I didn't update sooner. My family was in town and I spent time with them.

**Second** – Happy holidays! To whatever you celebrate or whomever (and however) you worship, I hope all goes well.

**Third** – Check out the **A/N **_**down below *wink* *wink* *nudge* *nudge***_

* * *

_Well it's on my mind_  
_I'm heading back in time_  
_And when I think of all the songs we used to play and then I_  
_Think of you and it's alright,_  
_I think of you and it's alright._

_Well it's this sort of thing that gets me to lose my mind_

_And it's the flash flashy eyes that make it worthwhile_  
_And it's every time when we, we get together_  
_We just fall in love again..._

_All in all it's the perfect scene_

_And there's not anywhere that I would rather be_  
_And it's now, now or never when we're chasing our dreams_  
_And oh we're getting close now, don't turn away._

"Mercy Mercedes" by: The Perfect Scene

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen: Cat and Mouse**

I sat on the bank of the shallow part of the river where I told Altaïr we'd meet up for swimming lessons, a strange sense of déjà vu washing over me. He told me he'd be here just after noon, but I had gotten there early from excitement and now was paranoid that he wasn't going to show up even though I was still early.

Instead I ended up kicking the water absentmindedly and rubbing my arm. Even with Altaïr's constant treatments and Malik's 'easy' training sessions, it still hurt. The muscles starting having spasms randomly and it was hard to open and close my hand still. I was just hoping that it was getting worse before getting better because The Mentor caught wind of my wrist and had me on a short leash and an even shorter temper.

Al Mualim seemed as indifferent as ever.

A strange feeling washed over me and I used my peripherals to scan the area discretely. Altaïr was making his way towards me stealthily. I worked on keeping myself relaxed and distracted-looking. When Altaïr got about 10 feet away from me on the bridge's ledge, he jumped silently. Right before he landed near me, I launched myself backward and flipped him with a grunt. He rolled and sprang towards me with his sword. I countered easily with the dagger he had given me on the mission where I assassinated Afzal and hadn't given back yet. We squared off and walked in circles around each other. I made the first move with an easy swipe at his chest. He caught it with his sword and I fought to gain leverage against him.

"You ready to get in the water?" I taunted him; an emotion that looked eerily like fear flickered in his eyes before they became indifferent again. A wicked grim spread across my face; I quickly sidestepped so my back was to the river; I knew I wasn't strong enough to push Altaïr into the river, but I could definitely pull him in. He narrowed his eyes and smirked slightly. We remained squared off and I lunged again. This time when Altaïr swung his sword, I met it and 'stumbled' closer to the river. We exchanged a few more heavy blows before I let go over my dagger, grabbed his robes, and threw him with all of my might into the shallow banks.

I turned around to see Altaïr spluttering and lashing around wildly in the three foot water.

"Altaïr!" I screamed at his panic. He shot me a frantic look. "Stand up, you dumbass!" It took a moment for him to register my request before he relaxed slightly in the water and put his feet under him.

He shot me an evil glare and I started laughing my ass off. "Very graceful, Assassin." I clapped my hands in sarcastic applause.

Faster than I could blink, he pulled me into the water with him. A shrieked as water covered my face before I was pulled up quickly. I coughed and raised my eyebrows at him. "Go ahead, try it again. Just remember one thing: I can swim. You, however, can't." He let out a snort and let me go, I scrambled in the shallows; slipping on the mud.

"Okay, first thing is first: _You _need to undress." It was silent for a moment before I realized what I said. "Um, I mean out of your robes and armor. They're heavy… and stuff. You can keep your shirt and pants on. You might want to take your shoes off too." I stumbled over my words, blushing.

He nodded slowly and I could sense the smirk on his face. I turned away in modesty and preserve my sanity. Altaïr grabbed my shoulders and turned me all the way back to him before throwing his armor on the bank. Piece. By. Piece. Then off came his robes, next were his shoes. He kept his hood on, however and stood in the most civilian clothes I had ever seen him: brown pants and a loose white shirt… plus the hood.

I sniffled at the fact that his hood was on.

I didn't bother wearing armor that day and instead took my robe and hood off, standing in men's clothes much like Altaïr. I retrieved a hair tie from my pocket and put my hair up before letting out a deep breath.

"First we're gonna have to work on floating." I kneeled down deliberately and Altaïr followed suit. The water came to just below my breasts, but only went to the middle of his stomach. "So, what you want to do is take a deep breath, put your shoulders back into the water, and kick up your feet like your sleeping in a cot, okay? You might have to use your hands to tread water – which we'll get to later, but for right now I'll help you, okay? Here, I'll show you first." I slowly let myself relax into the water, enjoying the sun and occasionally Slowly, I righted myself before turning to him.

"You'll rest your head on my shoulder to begin with until you get used to it."

Unsurprisingly, Altaïr learnt quickly. We got through floating to basic swimming techniques with ease in the shallows. Everything was going great until I decided to push Altaïr a little bit farther out of his comfort zone.

"Okay. Next we're going to tread water, which means that we'll have to go into deeper water where your feet don't reach the bottom."

Altaïr froze and I noticed his jaw twitching. I put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed slightly.

"Do you trust me? I've already saved your ass in deeper, I will do it again if need be." I attempted to comfort him. "We'll be done after this."

He nodded with a swift jerk before heading deeper into the river, me following. Finally, it got to where he was on his tippy-toes and I was treading.

"What you want to do is take a breath and use your legs and arms methodically to keep you up. This is supposed to help you stay in deep water for a long amount of time, though it won't save you from hypothermia. It takes practice to be able to do this with armor and for a long time, so don't be discouraged if you don't get it immediately. And remember: I got your back." I shot him a smile.

I suppressed a groan on annoyance as we started to tread again. My bad wrist was starting to go numb from the dirty water, but I didn't dare say it; part of me was pissed that Altaïr, who was so adamant on taking care of me before, had forgotten about this little factor. Slowly, I felt my temper slipping. We had now slipped from learning into a treading competition that Altaïr was very content on winning with his newfound skills. I shot him a glare and kept afloat though.

After a half an hour more of treading, him smirking at me for half of it and sending me glare of challenges for the other, I finally let out a groan and started swimming to shore with a scowl.

"Dammit, Altaïr! You have to be the best at everything, don't you?" I yelled over my shoulder at him before attempting to wring out my clothes without taking them off. I threw on my robes and used them to dry off slightly. I didn't even bother putting my hood on. Instead I slung my armor over my shoulder and stormed off. It was simple, stupid things that he did that made me so pissed. Plus my wrist _really _fucking hurt.

A grip on my shoulder held me back. I whipped around.

"What?" I hissed.

And then Altaïr kissed me.

Straight and hard on the lips.

My eyes automatically snapped shut and I leaned in slightly. Then I came to my senses, jolting back. I looked up at Altaïr with a purely confused expression. He gazed back at me with an expectant expression. I let out a deep breath and clung to his robes before giving a delayed gasp and touching my lips.

And then I ran like a coward.

That evening I got called into the Mentor's office and I was paranoid; jumping at my own shadow. I shuffled in slowly, only to face practically every Assassin in the order, plus my close friends staring back at me expectantly; each blinking owlishly from different places in the room. Each and every one of them seemed confused.

I didn't say anything because my eyes were locked with Altaïr's. His face betrayed no emotion. I gave him my best kicked puppy look, but he remained indifferent.

"Anima, do you know why we called you here today?" The Mentor asked solemnly. I gulped and shook my head 'no'. He gazed at me for a moment and I felt very much like a piece of meat under a predator's stare, "It has come to my attention, via Malik, that you are more than prepared to move up a rank." I opened my mouth to thank him, but he cut me off. "Since we moved you back to Novice, far below your skill level, I find it only fair to move you back up to your former position as a rank seven Mercenary. You still will work with Malik until you are a full Assassin, where you will get your hidden blades."

I bowed formally. "Thank you, Mentor." After that, I turned to Malik, "Thank you, master Malik."

They both dipped their heads back before Malik handed me back my old gear. I refrained from squealing in delight and jumping up and down, but instead hugged them tightly to my chest with a white-knuckled grip.

After the ceremony, I rushed up to my room and changed back into my old armor. I took off my old belt with Altaïr's dagger and paused: _I should give it back. _I thought.

A deep pang of sadness rested in my heart. Not only was the dagger lucky for me and carried positive memories, but it was truly beautiful:

The hilt was a smooth ivory with a feather design crafted stunningly into it alongside some Arabic writing I couldn't quite understand. Dark red rubies were inlayed at the base of the hilt; bringing out the subtle red tones in the silver colored metal blade. The edge itself was about two and a half fingers thick and about as long as my forearm with a slight curve to it. In the limited light it seemed to glow.

Then I realized that I was avoiding Altaïr and falling in love with his dagger instead… and that was decidedly wrong. So, I stood up and headed outside to look for him. I found myself heading determinedly towards the bridge. Sure enough, Altaïr was leaning against the railing, staring into the water. If he heard me approach, he didn't show it. I learned on the railing next to him.

"Still rivers run deep." I started casually. Altaïr jumped slightly, which had me worried.

He shook his head and chuckled. "Your people always have the strangest analogies."

I smiled slightly. "Here" I handed him his dagger. "I don't need this now that I have my own back."

He glanced down at it, black robes blending into the night. "Keep it."

I ducked down. "I'm sorry for running away earlier today."

"Virgins tend to do that." He chuckled.

I laughed along with him until I realized what he said. "Hey!" I shrieked before pushing him slightly.

"It's true." He smirked.

I rolled my eyes. "I didn't see you attempting to catch up."

"It would've been too easy of a chase." He laughed slowly.

"That or you knew you couldn't catch me." I challenged.

"Oh really?" He raised an eyebrow in question.

"Really." I laughed before sprinting off.

I kept running throughout the night, but Altaïr never got closer than five feet away from me. There were times that he almost caught me, but I dodged out of the way last minute.

"You're gonna have to try harder than that! I'm not a Novice anymore!" I called out behind me.

Finally I stopped; partly because my wrist was hurting and partly because I wanted to give poor Altaïr a break. I turned to him slowly.

"Well," I sauntered over to him, "I guess you lose this time."

And then _I _kissed _him._

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_Important note: _

**1) **It's not very often that a writer will do this on fanfiction, but I like sharing ideas. So, whoever likes this story enough may use my characters to create their own story. Just be sure to give credit where credit is due. (Ubisoft = Altaïr and Malik, etc… Me = Anima, Raan, and anybody else you don't recognize from AC1). So, I just wanted to get that out there, because most authors don't like it when you steal their AU, but I'm saying go ahead.

**2) **I'm thinking of hosting a one-shot contest, anybody down for that?

**3) **Anybody willing to do some fanart of Anima? PM me if you're interested! Thank you!

**4) **Do yourself a favor and read the _Night Angel Trilogy _by: Brent Weeks… and then praise me forever because the series is completely **BAMF! **Then, tell me if you want me to attempt (key word: attempt) to make a fanfiction out of it.


	19. Chapter Eighteen: A Little Thing Called

**Disclaimer: **I claim no ownership of Assassin's Creed.

**Warning: **AHHHH! My favorite book series newest book is shipping to me within the weed _and _I'm super excited for Assassin's Creed 3 to come out, but I'm not pre-ordering it, only because my parents say they will get it for me (I get good grades) and the price goes down after a month or so. So… yay! Anybody else think that Connor's going to be an awesome-ass character? Yeah, me too. Anyways, this really isn't a warning so much as a fan-gasm. So, I'll shut up now. **Language in this chapter. **Also, **slightly adult themes.**

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**I also re-uploaded chapter 11 with beta-ing.**

_**OPEN YOUTUBE AND CHECK OUT THIS SONG! **_

_Some nights, I stay up cashing in my bad luck  
Some nights, I call it a draw  
Some nights, I wish that my lips could build a castle  
Some nights, I wish they'd just fall off_

_But I still wake up, I still see your ghost_  
_Oh Lord, I'm still not sure what I stand for oh_  
_What do I stand for? What do I stand for?_  
_Most nights, I don't know anymore..._  
_Oh whoa, oh whoa, oh whoa oh oh_  
_Oh whoa, oh whoa, oh whoa oh oh_

_This is it, boys, this is war - what are we waiting for?_  
_Why don't we break the rules already?_  
_I was never one to believe the hype - save that for the black and white_  
_I try twice as hard and I'm half as liked, but here they come again to jack my style_

_And that's alright; I found a martyr in my bed tonight_  
_She stops my bones from wondering just who I am, who I am, who I am_  
_Oh, who am I? mmm... mmm..._

_Well, some nights, I wish that this all would end_  
_Cause I could use some friends for a change_  
_And some nights, I'm scared you'll forget me again_  
_Some nights, I always win, I always win..._

_But I still wake up, I still see your ghost_  
_Oh Lord, I'm still not sure what I stand for, oh_  
_What do I stand for? What do I stand for?_  
_Most nights, I don't know... (come on)_

_So this is it? I sold my soul for this?_  
_Washed my hands of that for this?_  
_I miss my mom and dad for this?_

_(Come on)_

_No. When I see stars, when I see, when I see stars, that's all they are_  
_When I hear songs, they sound like this one, so come on_  
_Oh, come on. Oh, come on, OH COME ON!_

_Well, that is it guys, that is all - five minutes in and I'm bored again_  
_Ten years of this, I'm not sure if anybody understands_  
_This one is not for the folks at home; Sorry to leave, mom, I had to go_  
_Who the fuck wants to die alone all dried up in the desert sun?_

_My heart is breaking for my sister and the con that she call "love"_  
_When I look into my nephew's eyes..._  
_Man, you wouldn't believe the most amazing things that can come from..._  
_Some terrible lies...ahhh..._

_Oh whoa, oh whoa, oh whoa, oh oh_  
_Oh whoa, oh whoa, oh whoa, oh oh_

_The other night, you wouldn't believe the dream I just had about you and me_  
_I called you up, but we'd both agree_  
_It's for the best you didn't listen_  
_It's for the best we get our distance... oh..._  
_It's for the best you didn't listen_  
_It's for the best we get our distance... oh..._

_"Some Nights" by: Fun._

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**Believe In Fairy Tales – **My beta. She's awesome (in case you haven't gotten the memo yet.)

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**Chapter Eighteen: A Little Thing Called Doubt **

I woke up with a nagging feeling in my gut – something about today was off. When I got up, I immediately stubbed my toe and felt dizzy. My arm hurt from swimming yesterday too. I groaned and put my head against the cool floor after I got dressed. I must've slipped out of consciousness because next thing I knew somebody slammed my door open. I looked up slightly and groaned again; the room was spinning and the figure was blurry.

I dully noted that my infection was probably spreading in my arm after being stuck in dirty water. The figure hauled me up, but I couldn't find it in me to support myself, so I stayed limp. The figure shook me lightly and I lolled my head back slightly. The figure called something out loudly and I screamed in agony before dropping to the ground and clutching my head. It felt like somebody was driving a rusty dagger through my skull with a hammer. My teeth clenched and my brain rattled. Through the pain I couldn't help but think about how disappointed The Mentor and Malik would be of me. That and how guilty Altaïr would probably feel.

I was set down on the ground gracefully and I immediately put my forehead back to the cool ground and focused on breathing like I was trained to. The door was left wide open while I shook on the floor and whoever was holding me ran out calling something indistinguishable. Next two figures came in. I narrowed my eyes at one of them and recognized Malik, beside him was The Mentor; I could tell because of his beard. Malik picked me up and we started walking quickly to the medical wing… Altaïr joined us halfway there and never took his eyes off me once.

Cien and the doctor looked up the moment we entered the room, but it was Cien who quickly took over, having already known and assessed the problem. She undid my bandages quickly and efficiently started cleaning them; showing neither mercy nor remorse whenever I flinched because she cleaned deep in the wound. Altaïr and Malik hovered while The Mentor wandered off to talk to the official doctor.

"Stupid, stupid, woman. Look what you've done to yourself now!" Cien ranted as she worked quickly. While the numbing salve she put on my arm soaked in, she gave me some tea and made me sit up. I looked at her with a semi dazed expression; still confused as to what was completely going on. Cien caught my hazy expression and slapped me.

Yes, Cien slapped me. Again, I state that this is an Assassin thing. You'd think they'd teach everybody here to throw a decent punch at least. But noooo… everybody still goes at it like two women over one man.

After she hit me my head spun, but I regained my Assassin senses and sent her a scowl. "I trained you and saved your sorry ass, girl." She rolled her eyes and flipped her hair. It was then that I felt guilty; she'd grown up some and I had hardly been around. Between running missions and everything I had barely seen her, even though it had been roughly two weeks since we all got back. No, Cien matured and I wasn't there for it.

"And now I'm saving your ass. I guess we can call it even." She snapped back. I blinked at her slowly. Since when did she become a cynic?

"…okay?" I felt like shit now. At least before I wasn't emotionally wounded. Altaïr was suddenly by my side, putting a damp cloth on my forehead. I almost moaned in appreciation, but decided not to subject myself to any possible embarrassment. Instead I shot him a thankful glance.

As Cien worked on my arm, Al Mualim started talking to Malik, Altaïr, and I. "Good news, Assassins. Not only have we caught wind of the supplier for Trystan, but we've found the location of Kylal himself. Since Kylal is prone to be moving locations soon, I would like him Assassinated tonight. He's bunking out at a safe house about two miles out of town. The weapons supplier is a blacksmith in town who will be assassinated tomorrow. Do you understand?"

We all nodded.

"Good." He nodded curtly before turning to me. "Anima, you are a wonderful apprentice and a potentially great Assassin, however, we simply cannot afford to have anybody on injury right now, so I will give you a choice: start working despite your injuries or leave the Creed."

I blanched. Leaving the Creed was death: they'd hire somebody to track me down in fear of me turning. He knew it too. We all knew it. How could he be so cruel?

"I will work, Mentor." I dipped my head.

He nodded. "I will give you tonight off. Malik, Altaïr, and Kinja will go assassinate Kylal this evening. Anima, tomorrow you, Malik, Raan, and Altaïr will kill the blacksmith."

"Why so many of us per mission?" Malik questioned.

"They are recruiting more experienced fighters, I'm afraid. We'll need to be safer than sorry."

There was a moment of silence before The Mentor left the room, beckoning Altaïr to follow him. That left Malik and I alone, seeing as Cien was off who knows where working with medicines.

"I worry for you, Novice." Malik sat at the base of the bed and looked at me expectantly.

I rubbed my wrist slightly. It felt better now. "Don't worry, I'll heal." I gave him a slight smile.

He dropped his head and shook it slightly, chuckling. "That's not what I'm talking about." I gave him an inquiring glance and Malik met it steadily. "I'm talking about Altaïr and you."

I played ignorant.

"You don't fool me. I see the way he looks at you and you look at him." He sighed. "It's worrisome because I think you two get the wrong ideas about each other."

"How so?" I croaked. This talk was not going as well as I'd hoped.

"Altaïr is… proud and ignorant at times... I'd even go so far as to say extreme when it comes to his actions and emotions. As your mentor, I know for a fact that you don't like being pushed by other people. Altaïr is going to do just that; for better or worse. He is completely oblivious to your beliefs on certain views. He acts and reacts harshly and without any mercy. I fear that you will do more damage to yourself physically, mentally, and most of all emotionally if he pushes you into… situations. You must understand: Altaïr isn't as… mortal… as us. As much as he obviously is interested in you, I fear for you in the fact that he views you more as a valued possession than a lover. Do you understand, Anima?"

I was silent for a moment, "You mean he doesn't care for me?"

"No, I think he cares very much for you, but only as one might care for a lucky piece of jewelry. He doesn't see you as a person… yet." Malik explained wearily.

I nodded in understanding. "So you're saying that I have to put my foot down early?"

"Exactly, I found that you're as malleable as clay until you lose your temper; a bad trait. Just be weary and keep in mind that Altaïr isn't as open minded and merciful as you."

"And by that you mean…?"

Malik sighed and ran a hand through cropped hair. "He is… oblivious… to what makes us human. He doesn't need a reason to kill or act; he just does. Altaïr has one setting: Assassin mode. He is cruel and malicious to all who cross his path. You act as if he had a good side to him."

"He does." I defended.

Malik shook his head, "No, he doesn't. That man is ruthless and intense and immovable in his views… and even you can't change that. As much as he… cares… for you, you're not going to change him. Just like you can't let him change you." He let out a deep breath, "What I'm saying is to be prepared for the extremes with Altaïr and accept it now or leave, because he will come after you. He doesn't lose." My mind flashed back to the night before. "He's not like the other Assassins or anybody you've ever met. He's just as bad as our enemies, except he's fighting for us."

A sinking feeling hit my gut. I couldn't help but hear the truth in his words. "I'll be careful."

Malik smiled and patted my head slightly. "You're smart and learn quickly… There's a reason I picked you as my novice. I trust you will do what's possible, and while I do not fancy the thought of you and Altaïr together, I will not change that. Perhaps you can do some good for him. Now, I must go. Sleep well and be prepared for tomorrow."

Two minutes after Malik left, Altaïr entered. "What did he say?" He interrogated me the second I acknowledged his presence.

"Who?" I responded easily.

"Malik."

I shrugged. "To summarize: You're insane, cruel, a coldblooded killer, and will probably push me past my limits, drive me to my grave, or at least insane. He also said that you were basically a stubborn jackass, but all in all I had his blessing because I'd quite obviously be the brains in this… relationship… because Lord knows you don't have any. That good enough for you?" I mocked him slightly.

He nodded slowly and approached me, learning over me. Tingles started in my toes and I curled them subconsciously. He noticed and smirked. "I'm heading out to kill Kylal soon. I wanted to tell you get better quickly over night." I remained silent. He took a deep breath, "I'm worried for you."

"I'll be fine. Don't worry!" I huffed.

His eyes scanned my face. "I believe you."

"So what about our mission tomorrow? What info do we have on it?" I changed the subject.

"No information. Just run in, kill him, run out."

I nodded. "Well, safe travels, Assassin."

He hummed, leaned down and kissed me. I kissed him back slightly and his tongue worked its way into my mouth. I sucked in a sharp breath and he crawled onto the bed, hovering over me. I tossed a leg over his waist and kissed him back. I was breathless by the time we were through.

"You should probably… uh, go." I stated awkwardly.

He gave me one last kiss on the forehead before exiting the room quickly.

A bad feeling settled in my gut again. Maybe we were moving too quickly? It had been one day after all. My head was starting to ache again, so I slipped into merciful sleep.

It wasn't until the evening when I had to assassinate the blacksmith. I was a little wary, but otherwise fine the next morning. It was the wariness I was hosting, however, that caused me to sneak into The Mentor's office and look through his assassination files. He had every single resident in the town's info shoved neatly into a desk drawer. I found the blacksmith's bio and glanced through it.

There was no record of him selling his products to an enemy. In fact, there was nothing suspicious in his file at all. I read through it carefully; one of his daughters was very sick, however. A small, folded up piece of paper at the back of the file made me suspicious. It stated that he was selling armor and weapons in bulk to an anonymous buyer. He'd just leave his supplies in the back of the warehouse. I blinked slowly. They were paying him a lot. What got me though, was that the man seemed to show no knowledge as to whom he was actually selling his supplies to.

The irony hit my dead on then. The Assassins ordered their supplies in very much the same way. We had a local blacksmith for adjustments and specializations, but otherwise we ordered in bulk under an anonymous sector. Our blacksmiths had no idea who they were selling to; most believed that it was just going to be transported to the king. Not only that, but the blacksmiths didn't have any say as to who they were selling to. Especially if they were trying to make money for a sick family member. This man could've just as easily sold to us. He had no knowledge that he was doing wrong and we were killing him for it when we could've just as easily bought him out to us instead of the army. We all knew that the Assassin order had the coin for it.

A feeling of dread sunk into my gut. The door opened and in strode Malik and The Mentor, both had a very surprised look across their faces when the say me snooping around.

"What is the meaning of this, Anima?" Malik commanded.

I waved the file slightly. "We can't follow through on this assassination. It's against the Creed."

"And what would that be?" The Mentor challenged.

"'Stay your blade from innocent flesh'," I repeated mechanically.

"Do explain."

"This man doesn't who he is selling to! It's the same set up that we have with our buyers, we can just as easily buy off all of his weapons for ourselves!" I explained excitedly.

The Mentor shook his head slightly and I handed the file to Malik. "He is selling weapons to the enemy, he must die."

"He doesn't know he's selling his weapons to the enemy! If somebody tipped him off or bought them, then we wouldn't have to kill him!" I argued.

"We cannot afford to buy his products, nor can we compromise the brotherhood by giving him a hint. He's better off dead." The Mentor threw open the window and a warm breeze fluttered in, but I got the chills.

"That's bullshit!" I spat at The Mentor, whose face had turned into a tasteless look. I saw people in the clearing look up. At this time of day, it was most of the Creed.

"It is necessary." He deadpanned.

"It is irrational! You're punishing them for what they do! Not their reasons!" I screamed.

"What do you mean?" The old man coaxed my rage.

"Well, there's murder, and there's self defense; in the end, one is legal and the other is not! However, it's the same outcome… death! We're killing innocents!"

"Again, I state it is necessary."

"Because we cannot afford to buy his supplies also."

"You know that's not true!" I shouted hysterically. "You are just as greedy as the men we're fighting against. You are corrupt and a fucking hypocrite!" Malik took hold of my shoulders and held me back as I lunged towards the Mentor. "Get out of the bureau for once! Stop fooling yourself and the Creed! Our town is in shambles and it's because we say the enemy is holding the money! It's not true! We have just as much as them. We're supposed to help others and instead we help ourselves! Don't you see that everything around us is in shambles? Don't you see that we're participating to the damage just as much as the people we are fighting? Don't you see the irony? Is that the exception to the rules: power? Is that what the Creed has come to?" My voice was raspy and I was quickly becoming hysterical. Everything was happening so quickly.

If I didn't have any attention from the other Assassins before, I did now.

The Mentor just ran a hand through his beard. "You don't understand."

"Then explain!" I exclaimed.

"You are too young to understand."

"Age is no limit to knowledge!" I argued.

"Just carry out the mission, Anima. That or commit treason and die."

The released of the air from my lungs as if I had been punched in the gut and allowed myself to be dragged out by Malik.

When we got back to my room, Malik looked worried. "You do realize that Altaïr will kill him whether you say so or not." He stated monotonously.

I looked at him with shock, "No he won't. Altaïr will believe me."

"This is what I meant when I talked to you yesterday. Altaïr doesn't _care _what you say. Altaïr doesn't _care _what they did. And Altaïr doesn't _care _if they're innocent or not – no matter what you tell him. This is what I warned you about yesterday."

"No," I shook my head in denial, "Altaïr won't do that."

"Yeah, well he's about to push your beliefs real soon. Get your act together; we head out for the mission in ten." Malik ordered coolly.

"He won't do it!" I called after him.

"You don't know him, Anima." He called back.

I huffed. Altaïr had a heart, Malik just refused to see it.

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**You're gonna hate the next chapter. Oops. Spoiler. Oh well. **

**5 CHAPTERS UNTIL THIS BOOK IS OVER! **


	20. Chapter Nineteen: Quick Change

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Assassin's Creed… but I really wish I did.

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**Warning: Language. **You guys will probably hate this chapter.

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You guys: check out **unanymousdeen**'s profile, she put up a one shot of this! It's super good! You all should check it out and leave a comment! It's called Marks and Bearings.

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_I will not make the same mistakes that you did  
I will not let myself  
Cause my heart so much misery  
I will not break the way you did,  
You fell so hard  
I've learned the hard way  
To never let it get that far_

"Because of You" by: Kelly Clarkson

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**Chapter Nineteen: Quick Change **

Exactly ten minutes after Malik left, he returned and dragged me outside to the courtyard where Raan and Altaïr were waiting patiently. Raan looked uneasy and avoided eye contact with me and Altaïr looked fiercely determined, which meant he either didn't hear a damn word I said or was deciding to ignore me.

I wanted to talk to Altaïr on the way to the destination, but he was moving quickly in front of me and Malik was holding me back, whispering instructions as always.

"He'll probably be inside with his family-" Malik coached.

"-and an incredibly sick daughter who he's struggling to help keep alive-" I shot back.

"-so we'll have to lure him out and kill him-"

"-and break the rest of the mother's heart when both her daughter and husband dies-"

"-Altaïr and Raan will take care of it and we'll make sure that there are no witnesses-"

"-just so they don't starve to death from lack of income-"

"Oh shut up and follow orders, Novice." Malik snapped.

"I'm not a Novice!" I hissed at him. "Stop calling me that!"

"You aren't an Assassin either." He growled. He grabbed my arm and I shoved him away.

"Let go!"

He went to hit me and I caught his arm. Unfortunately for me, Malik was much stronger and threw me to the ground. I rolled and crouched easily, grabbing my dagger. Raan hauled me up from behind by my hood.

"Can't breathe!" I gasped. Raan held tighter for a moment before letting go.

Malik composed himself quickly. "We must hurry."

"This is wrong!" I shrieked. "Altaïr…?" I looked at him for help. He seemed indifferent to the situation. "Malik! Surely you can't be so blind!" I pleaded with the two Assassins. Raan scuffled his feet slightly and stood back.

"Keep moving, Novice." Malik ordered.

When we got to the blacksmith's house, I froze and grabbed Altaïr; clinging to his coats. "You can't do this! This is against the Creed! What would Al Mualim say?" I gave him my best pleading look. He gazed down at me with an annoyed expression, but didn't respond.

Instead the metal 'shink' of his hidden blade rang through the night and I stumbled back in disgust.

A door opening and candlelight pouring into the space below us made us all freeze. The man, who I recognized as the blacksmith, walked out with a water pail in hand. There was a pump below us, which he was making his way towards steadily. Just as he turned the pump on Altaïr started to jump.

In an act of pure desperation, I lunged after him. Our bodies collided in mid-air and the shocked blacksmith started running back into the house yelling 'Assassin!' at the top of his lungs. I made sure to land with all of my weight on Altaïr, causing him to grunt in annoyance more than anything.

"Stop! We can't do this!" I begged him. "This isn't what we stand for!" I screamed.

Altaïr shoved me off him and I hit the wall before scrambling up. I could only watch in horror as Altaïr motioned for Raan to kill everybody. Raan hesitated before running towards the house.

"Malik!" I screamed up at the watching Assassin. He looked at me for a moment before locking his jaw and sprinting after Raan with what I could only hope was good intent.

Altaïr was running towards the house now too, but I found the speed in me to tackle him to the ground once again. We started rolling and fighting. He didn't say anything, but looked downright murderous. Even with his gold eyes blazing, but for once I was able to meet them. He was not winning this fight!

I managed to get a good hit on his face before being pinned down. With all of my might I lifted him up with my legs and hands before holding him there for a moment and shoving him off of me. My arms burned. In the moment that I wasn't fighting Altaïr, I whipped out the dagger he gave me and laughed wickedly in the irony. If anybody could teach the _stubborn, ignorant, dumbass, fucktard, _of an Assassin a lesson: it was me. I didn't care if he was the best dammit; I was getting more than one hit in.

It briefly crossed my mind that we'd only been together for two days and we were already killing each other… but that was beside the point.

We leapt towards each other at the same time and I felt the wind get knocked out of me from the impact, but I held tough. I parried with my dagger and used my bad hand to shake Altaïr by the collar, "You're fucking insane! How could you do this?"

Again he didn't respond. We fought each other for a few more minutes before I had my back against the wall. Altaïr swung down towards my chest armor and I ducked before putting my hand up to stop the sword. I froze in pure agony as the blade caught my bad wrist and reared back as far as I could away from him; consequently cracking my bad arm's elbow on the stone behind me. Tears sprung unwillingly to my eyes, but I put my shoulder into Altaïr and shoved. He stumbled back and I somehow found it in me to trip him. He fell and rolled, but before he got up, I kicked him with all of my might in the ribs.

The metal chest plate that _I _bought him made my foot hurt, which only made me angrier. So I kicked him again. And again. I kicked him with all of my might until I was positive I heard a rib or two crack before jumping on his chest with both feet and stepping off him casually.

He didn't even make a sound during the whole process.

As a matter of fact, Altaïr didn't fight back one bit.

I felt an ugly sneer form on my face as I aimed for final blow straight to the bottom of his jaw, but his hand snapped out and pulled me down. I felt my skull rattle as it hit the concrete. I clenched my jaw and struggled to grab my sheathed dagger and Altaïr transferred all of his weight onto me. It was hard to breathe with him and my breath was shallow and ragged; my head was dizzy.

He pinned my hands above my head; his face a hair's width away from mine. I snapped at him with my teeth, but he pulled back just in time. I lunged against him and he whipped out a dagger and put it to my throat.

"Go ahead and do it!" I laughed at him before turning deadly somber, "I fucking _dare _you."

Altaïr dropped the dagger, just like I knew he would.

"You compromised the Brotherhood; you broke the Creed." He gave me a shake and I felt blood trickle down my scalp.

"You were about to harm an innocent. You were about to break the Creed." I argued weakly. I struggled for consciousness; I wasn't losing this. Altaïr would be the loser before this night was over. With the strength I didn't know I had, I grabbed the dagger and put the butt of it to his head and watched as his eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed… right on top of me.

I allowed myself to slip into slumber knowing that the fight was over and I was the last man standing. Well… last human conscious at least.

I woke up remembering last night perfectly, which was a surprise because I felt as hung over as fuck; it was a habit I was becoming increasingly familiar with. What didn't make sense, however, was how I was sleeping next to a half-naked Altaïr. His ribs were tightly wrapped and I took a minute to re-examine his face, which was usually covered by his hood. It looked as perfect as ever, which pissed me off because I probably looked like a haggard lady to say the least.

Somebody cleared their throat and I looked at the source of the noise. Malik was sitting casually in the corner with bags under his eyes. He took one look in my eyes and started talking. "I know what you're going to say – so let me explain. First, you are sleeping next to Altaïr because he woke up before you and requested it. Second, I'm sitting here to make sure nothing happens. Third, yes the blacksmith and his family are okay; they are under a contract specifically for the Creed. His son is now our newest recruit. Fourth, The Mentor is livid and about ready to kill you, thankfully Al Mualim stood up for your ass after _I _begged for him to alongside Raan, so I suspect your full support from here on out. Fifth, if anybody asks we caught the soldiers transferring the goods instead of the blacksmith and worked out a contract. Sixth, if you _ever _pull that stunt again, _I _will kill you myself, Novice. Do you understand?"

I nodded numbly.

"Good. Now get up and head to Cien. She wants to check your wrist." With that, he exited the room.

I attempted to sit up so I could visit Cien, key word: attempted. The second I shifted my weight to get up, an arm whipped out and tugged me back. I squirmed a little before letting out an indignant huff and flipping around to face Altaïr. His eyes gazed into mine with a slightly hazy tone. The words caught in my throat as I suddenly was immensely aware of how close together we were. My mind was screaming for me to slap the shit out of him for pulling this stunt… especially after what happened last night.

His lips grazed my neck before breezing to my ear. "And you call me cruel. Didn't anybody ever tell you not to kick a man while he was down?"

I felt my lips curl, "You're no man."

He turned over so I was pinned to the mattress and bit my ear slightly. I shuddered as his cool breath carried across my neck, "Wanna test that theory?"

I used my one hand to push against his chest, "No. And don't even think about it."

His nose buried in my neck, "Are you sure?"

I scoffed in disgust, "Positive. Now let me up. We need to talk."

"Hmm… I like you here."

My eyes rolled at his antics, "You know what? This isn't going to work. Malik was right." Sitting up suddenly, Altaïr reluctantly let me off the bed. I checked my clothes and pulled on my folded cloak hastily.

"What did Malik say?" Altaïr growled. I gave him the cold shoulder and he repeated himself with more force, "_What did Malik say!_"

"Nothing Altaïr – just drop it."

I felt my head hitting against the wall before I realized I had even moved. "What did Malik say?" He now demanded softly. He pinned me successfully. I let out a soft groan as my vision flashed grey.

"You know what he said? He said that you and I weren't going to work. And he's right. We've been with each other two days and we're always going for each other's throats!"

Altaïr remained silent for a moment, "Do you believe him?"

Choosing my words carefully, I continued, "Yes but,"

"But?" He prompted.

"He also said that you always have to win, which doesn't explain last night."

"I don't want to fight you." He whispered softly, gently resting his forehead against mine.

"You don't want to fight me now or you didn't want to fight me last night?" I snapped.

"Neither." His eyes bored into mine. I met them evenly, I was so mad it wasn't even close to funny. Normally he would intimidate me, but even with my back against the wall the thought of him being an arrogant little boy pissed me off.

"So what happened? Why did you give up?" I barked.

"I didn't want to fight you."

"_Why _dammit! Why did you not want to fight me?"

"You're part of the Creed." He answered simply – like that was the answer to everything: the Creed.

I felt my heart shatter and tears fell readily out of my eyes, "Why is it always about the Creed!" I screamed at him. "How are you so blind! It was the Creed that sent us on that mission – it was _me _that stopped it dammit! _Me!_"

Altaïr looked confused and I searched his face desperately.

"Can you do anything outside the Creed, Altaïr? Or is that it to you: kill, fuck, obey like a bitch, and kill more?" My breath turned erratic, "Don't answer!" I barked when he opened his mouth.

"I let your win because I didn't want to hurt you." He answered finally.

"Like I can't take a hit. By the way, thanks for fucking over my wrist again. First swimming, then fighting me. You make such a wonderful ally." I shrieked at him. "Which reminds me. I have to go to the Medic, again, and if I don't get killed or kicked out of the Creed, well at least I have _blind _and _oblivious _bastards like you fighting by my side. Long live the Creed!" I scoffed and exited the room. "We didn't even make it three fucking days!"

I clutched my chest afterwards as a pang of loneliness and guilt rang true; I was being such a bitch to Altaïr.

But in my defense, he was a complete ass.

* * *

**A/N: **So close, yet so far away. I know, I know, I'm evil.

You guys: check out **unanymousdeen**'s profile, she put up a one shot of this! It's super good! You all should check it out and leave a comment! As always, I'd love to see how you see Anima and company. Please, feel free to use my characters and do whatever! Knock yourselves out! Just give me credit where credit is due, and go for it!

_And on that, note, I was wondering if any of you would be willing to take up an one-shots with a writing prompt __–__ in celebration of this book coming to a close very soon. If you're up for it, leave a comment in the reviews and if I get more than 3 participants, I'll not only __**update sooner**__, but I'll leave the prompt at the bottom of the page. _


	21. Chapter Twenty: To Be Malleable

**Disclaimer: I don't own Assassin's Creed**

**Warning: Self-beta-ed **

_ONE!  
One chance with life is all you get  
TWO!  
So pick your side and place your bet  
THREE!  
Cause you know we've been here before  
FOUR!  
Won everytime but who's keeping score?  
FIVE!  
Still kicking, still alive  
SIX!  
We built this to survive  
SEVEN!  
Everyday is a blessing  
EIGHT, NINE, TEN!  
Here we go again!_

Oh kid I've heard this all before,  
Don't waste your time, don't be so sure,  
I've seen them come, I've seen them go,  
They thought they'd win, but now they know,  
You ain't the first to come and try,  
Won't be the last to say goodbye,  
Through all these tears I still believe,  
We're bringing all our enemies  
DOWN [x14]

"Bring 'Em Down (Weapons)" by: Lostprophets

**Chapter Twenty: To Be Malleable**

***Two weeks later***

After multiple hours of staring at the training rink, watching Cahil and Kinja duke it out in the arena, I'd reached three conclusions: a) Cahil was gonna be one hell of a fighter someday, b) Kinja looked distracted, and c) I was the world's biggest coward. I had successfully avoided the Mentor and Altaïr for a full two weeks.

Let me tell you one thing: I wasn't aware that I could keep out of trouble for that long. My life had been limited to the kitchen, the women's chambers, and the alleys of town. Oh, and stalking Altaïr like the desperate loser I was before realizing that I had an unhealthy obsession with him.

Like yesterday, _I was sitting on the river banks, minding my own damn business near my special spot near the bridge and Alta__ï__r__ comes strutting up the river with none of the childish fear of water like he had before. I scrambled into a hiding spot and found myself watching his every move like it was my last day on earth. Saliva gathered in my mouth as I watched him take all of his clothes off except his trousers. Women gathered on the bridge above me and giggled as he flexed easily; bronze muscles rippling. A feeling of immense jealousy washed over me. _

_Alta__ï__r__ dove into the water with ease and gave a visible smirk to the women gathered on the bridge before submerging himself completely. I held back a scream of frustration as all the women squealed as he held up a bundle of cloth and tossed them to the shore. Then it clicked and I started hyperventilating. Those were his pants. _

_He started swimming easily towards my location and I froze up. He was directly under the bridge and out of his fan girl's direct line of sight. I closed my eyes tight and wedged myself into a corner so he didn't see me. I heard rippling water and soft footsteps on the bank before clenching my eyes closed even more. This wasn't happening to me. _

_I waited until I was positive he was swimming away from me before sneaking away from the area and hauling ass towards the bureau. _

Malik cleared his throat from next me and gave me an exasperated glance. There was no doubt he knew who I was avoiding and probably why. Instead he remained as silent as ever and kept me training; he even came up with a permanent wrap to help support my wrist. I was glad to say that because of my time away from Altaïr and boredom forcing me to practice; I had gained skills quickly from all the extra practice and my wrist was healing up again, albeit slowly.

I attempted to plead my case with Malik that I wasn't avoiding Altaïr, but he noticed me practicing my Assassin skills more and didn't buy my alibi for a second. Instead he just raised an eyebrow and sighed.

"We have been requested to go to The Mentor's office." I paled slightly and Malik gave me a steadying glance. Together we strode into the large room and faced Altaïr, Kinja, Al Mualim, and The Mentor. I took a defensive stance and purposely avoided looking at Altaïr.

"It has come to our attention that Trystan Valéry is going to be close by in a meeting. Given this opportunity, we must act quickly. You four will leave immediately and finish this silly business once and for all. Perhaps then we will finally have some peace."

**Altaïr's POV:**

It hurt. Being without her constantly. His hands constantly shook from anger now, but he couldn't kill. Not with those pale eyes haunting him. The ache in his chest took away his breath… it hurt more than the broken ribs.

Stupid girl. Why did she have this power over him? What did that witch woman nun do to him to make him so… so… entranced? It was killing him. His muscles were beginning to lose their normal luster. Nothing tasted good.

He did what she said. She told him to stop fighting her. And he did.

But… wasn't not fighting back enough? He let her beat him, he let her kick him to the ground and release all her pent up anger on him. He allowed her to win. He let himself be vulnerable just for her.

Yet she didn't obey the Creed; all he stood for. The thought made his breath catch; though on the same side, their loyalties lay in different places. And what about Malik? What did he say? Surely Malik must've said something to her against him. Anima couldn't just give up on him. The girl wouldn't do that surely.

Anger coursed through his veins. Of course Malik would say something against him. It would by atypical of him if not. Did he change her mind?

They were together.

_It had only been three days. _

But it felt like so much longer. Didn't she understand that she was his? That she was loyal to him and his to her? They shouldn't have fought each other. She shouldn't have hurt him. He shouldn't have been so hurt by her. That's not how the Creed worked. They were siblings in arms and partners in life.

She should have listened to his orders. Not only was she a lower rank than him, but she was a woman. He, in every aspect, was in charge. And she didn't comply.

He stood up quickly, before sitting again in exhaustion. She haunted him; in his dreams it always ended up the same: Anima dead because of treason, and he was never there to save her.

Why, oh why, did that woman have to manipulate him so? One thing was for certain, one thing he had faced multiple times and was just beginning to accept: there was no life without Anima, for he was completely enamored by her.

Suddenly it was clear: this wasn't about physical fights. She was speaking about a battle of beliefs; A battle of wills.

He'd be damned if he'd lost her.

**Anima's POV**

I ended up ranting to the ever-patient Amelia and Cien, who were on break from the medical ward.

"It's like… like… he's ice cold steel sometimes! He doesn't have any emotions at all. He's just a blade waiting to be swung by whoever wields it! He can't think for himself, he's so incredibly ignorant that he pisses me off! And I can't say a damn thing against him or the Creed because Lord knows that he can't do any wrong!" I screamed at them while pacing the unnaturally empty library.

Amelia and Cien shared a glance between each other. I noticed it and glared at them.

It was Amelia that spoke up, "You know what they say, 'metal only bends when hot'."

A scoff came from my mouth, "Malik already said that I can't change him."

"Malik can be wrong sometimes." Cien pointed out. Cien always made a habit out of proving Malik wrong; they had become close like brother in sister mostly because of their similar attitudes and views created multiple common interests between the two. Though imagining Malik as a medic wasn't very comforting.

I rolled my eyes, "I don't think he's wrong about this one."

Cien shrugged. "Yeah, you're probably right."

It was Amelia's turn, "What I'm saying is that you have to be… tedious… Work him up about an idea, then manipulate that pure passion into your side."

Shaking my head, I sighed, "It won't work. Al Mualim and The Mentor have him wrapped around their fingers too tight. He's practically their ring."

Cien smirked slightly, "Well then, I suggest becoming a home wrecker."

I choked slightly, "How old are you?"

"Nine… or ten. Maybe eleven. I forgot my birthday a while back."

A pang of sadness for the girl went through my chest before I nodded. "Anyways, Kinja, Malik, Altaïr, and I have to go out tonight to assassinate Trystan."

"Keep Kinja out of trouble for me." Cien told me seriously before blushing slightly.

I narrowed my eyes at her. "And why would that be?"

"Because… because… Raan's not there and he's Kinja's mentor, so now it's your job." She stuttered, "Besides… he only listens to you anyways." She huffed afterwards.

It was now time for Amelia and me to share a knowing glance. I smirked, "Okay. No problem." A slow smile came to my face and I skipped out of the library without a second glance.

"You know, Altaïr likes you more than you'd ever imagine." Amelia called out behind me. My mind flashed back to a previous conversation with Malik.

I had an idea. My smile turned into a wicked one. A very, very good idea that might just get me full access to control over Altaïr.

A stray thought came to my mind. _Damn… I was power hungry._ I giggled slightly before running to my room.

***Later that evening***

Nervous energy coursed through my veins and everything was strikingly clear. No sound escaped my hearing, no movement escaped my sight. I was the perfect predator. My hands shook as I stood on the rooftops with the others, waiting for The Mentor and Al Mualim to send us off. It was supposed to be a quick mission, but a very important one.

This was the end. And I was part of it.

Rocking back and forth on the balls of my feet I couldn't stop the tingle of excitement run up my spine. Kinja noticed it and gave me a shit-eating grin, which only added to my anticipation.

The Mentor started giving us the rundown:

"There are large wheels that keep the drawbridge up. Kinja, it's your responsibility to keep the drawbridge up so the soldiers can't catch up to you when you flee." Kinja nodded diligently.

"Anima, you need to clear out the heavily armored guards ahead of Altaïr and Malik; clearing the path of sorts." I forced a determined look onto my face and complied.

This was perfect.

"Malik, you will oversee everything and fill in the gaps. Altaïr, you will be making the actual assassination. Remember: this is your one chance. Don't mess up."

Together we all bowed and started towards the outskirts of town on foot. Using horses would be too obvious. Everybody was on high alert.

I ran slightly behind everybody on the way there. Kinja ran next to a surprisingly lenient Altaïr, but Malik noticed my strange behavior and dropped back next to me.

Altaïr spared a quick glance back. Our eyes connected for a minute and we met each other head on with fierce determination. I forced myself not to smirk. Malik gave me an annoyed glance and spoke lowly and evenly despite running. It was hard for me to hear.

"What are you planning, novice?" He growled.

I shook my head. "Nothing. Why would you say that?"

"I know you better than you'd expect."

"Can you promise me something?" I asked softly.

A bewildered sigh, "I always do, don't I, novice?"

"I have a plan."

"That interferes with the most important mission the bureau has assigned us?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Please tell me this isn't about pride, novice."

"Slightly." I responded. A groan. Altaïr and Kinja both looked back before plowing ahead. "Don't worry. I've got this."

"You damn well better." Malik huffed.

"It's more about Altaïr than me." I pointed out.

"Figures."

"Just play along, please?"

"I always do, novice."

"That's because you're the best mentor in the history of ever." I kissed his ass jokingly.

"It seems you've unearthed my rebellious streak." Malik grumbled.

We stopped near a haystack directly outside the castle. Malik nodded at me, "Anima. Clear out the heavily armored guards and hide them. You have five minutes. It's essential that you don't get caught. Now go!"

I nodded before quickly scaling the wall. I sprinted from place to place and dragged the guards into random hiding places; working quicker and more efficiently than I had ever before; I noted to thank Malik for all his extra training.

Within about four minutes I reached the large front gates and spied the ropes holding them closed. Drawing Altaïr's dagger, I sawed through three quarters of the thick rope quickly on each side. The gates groaned in protest. By now I could spot the other three climbing over the wall quickly. I glanced around and spotted a guard. I drew a throwing knife and sprinted within throwing distance before hitting him squarely in the neck with the small blade. I sprinted back to the large gears of the gate while keeping an eye on the three. By now Kinja was working his way towards the gate. Using another throwing knife, I jammed a random gear near the top of the gate. There was another groan of protest from the heavy metal bars.

I glanced at Kinja quickly before making my final move: with trembling fingers, I climbed up to the top of the gate tower and broke the main lever to pull the gate up, which the guards usually used. Now it could only be opened, but not closed.

My heart raced as I barely sprinted out of Kinja's line of sight towards my required spot. I dispatched a couple of more guards and bolted towards an ever-diligent Malik.

"We need to go." I whispered breathlessly.

A pained look flashed across his face before we trotted silently across the rooftops. Just as we reached the outer wall I dropped down. Malik gave me a confused look.

"Go to Kinja and give him a chance. Oh, and get Cien after all of this!" I called out ominously. I saw my mentor roll his eyes before stalking off; clearly not happy about going against orders.

Whipping around, I made my way to where Altaïr was located. I sniffed in distaste lightly before getting my hands dirty. A guard was right below me. Cutting open his throat while whispering words of respect, I rubbed the bubbling blood from his throat all over the front of my robes and cut some of my armor and dented some of it in so it looked like I was heavily wounded. I soaked some of my robes in blood before setting off with a practiced limp.

The central area of the castle was where Trystan was surrounded by his allies and Altaïr was waiting. I made sure to limp across the rooftops and made a sloppy attempt at hiding myself. One of the guards saw me immediately and quickly thereafter, calls of 'Assassin!' rang throughout the clearing. Time slowed down as multiple crossbow bolts came at me. Nearly none of them came within potentially dangerous range but one. I calmed myself and caught the bolt before pressing it to my side lightly and clutching it like I had been hit.

I forced myself to fall off the building. My body fell two stories and I landed on my back with a resounding 'thud!' – exactly opposite of how I was taught. I was alone for the moment and took the chance to take a sip and dispose of the vial I'd stolen from the healer earlier. Almost immediately I felt delirious and light headed. The pain from my impact from the ground made it worse.

Not a moment later the guards found me. A boot caught my ribs and I coughed weakly. The figure above me was blurry as the fever set in quickly.

I drifted into unconsciousness willingly, praying to whoever was out there that Altaïr was at least half as hot headed and predictable as I had imagined, because without him I was as good as dead.

**A/N: **Dun, dun, dunnnn! Well, what do you think. A little plot twist? A little bit of mystery? A little bit of manipulation and damsels in distress? A little bit of acting? A little bit of rambling? Yeah… I never plotted this little scene out, but I decided that it would be a good change in events.

**Anybody willing to do a one-shot with a **_**prompt? **_

Please review?


	22. Chapter Twenty One: Manipulation

**Disclaimer: I don't own Assassin's Creed**

* * *

**Warning: Minor language**

* * *

_It's 2am, and I'm doing fine.  
Especially now you are by my side.  
I just keep thinkin' what you said to me,  
that without you there will be no me._

_And my thoughts are screamin' "I am me"  
Just take me home to where I want to be  
And I'm stuck inside my own head  
And this feeling's left me broken inside._

"Past Regrets, Future Threats" by: Call Atlantis

* * *

**Chapter Twenty One: Manipulation **

"_Anima… Anima. Come back for me! Promise you'll come back?"_

"…_I… I promise…"_

"_Now let him take you."_

"_He… can have me." _

"_He doesn't have to."_

"_I love him."_

"_I love _you, _Anima." _

I woke up slowly; a bright light burnt my eyes, but otherwise I felt fine. A shadow crossed my line of sight, giving the merciful darkness my eyes craved. Blinking, I noticed two very annoyed looking figures. Cien and Malik each were standing both with their legs shoulder width apart, arms crossed, and disapproving scowls plastered onto their faces. Their resemblance in stances and facial expressions were astounding.

"It worked?" I chirped with a meek look on my face.

"Yeah." Malik answered curtly.

"You're an idiot." Cien spat. "I can't believe you! I thought you were dead! You hear me? _DEAD_!" She starting sobbing. "Oh God, I thought I lost you, dammit Anima!"

"Language?" I pointed out in a guilty tone.

Her cries stopped and her face became deathly serious. "Imagine my horror when Altaïr carries you in looking like he's seen his ghost. His arms were shaking he was so incredibly scared. You were covering in blood. Your lips were blue. We couldn't feel your pulse. Altaïr was about to put you in ceremonial death wraps himself! You're cannot believe how _lucky _you are that Malik came in just in time and pulled Altaïr out of here."

I looked at Malik, whose scowl slid off his face to reveal a tired look. "I figured out your plan the second I saw you fall."

"You what? What plan? This was a plan? I thought you were hurt and decided suicide and- and-," she started hyperventilating, "There was a _plan?!"_ Cien shrieked, having just heard the news for the first time.

"Is Trystan dead?" I changed the subject quickly.

A nod. "Kinja killed him. He's celebrating now."

"Celebrating?" I asked disbelievingly. "He did realize that I was 'wounded', correct?"

"I told him your plan once I caught on." He explained.

"But Altaïr doesn't know?" I confirmed.

"No." I let out a deep breath.

"Sleepingrot." Cien stated blandly, "Gives the effect of death for five hours before finally killing the user unless revived with Wakevine."

"Good thing I remember some of those lessons."

Cien shook her head. "You're lucky I smelt your breath."

"Now, I must go. Kinja and I need to have a chat. If Altaïr comes around, tell him that I'm… taking a bath." I got up slowly.

"Like that would stop him at this point?" Cien pointed out blandly.

"Oh shut up," I snapped, forcing down the blush on my face.

"Or what?" She challenged.

"I'll tell Kinja that you like him!" I challenged back.

She shut up and nodded. "Go."

I caught Kinja's eye casually as I passed the big hall filled with celebrating assassins. After a couple minutes he met me near the bridge.

He pinned me against the wooden beams. "What the hell were you thinking?" He hissed.

I shoved him off me. "That Altaïr is predictable and needs to be taught a lesson."

"Please tell me this isn't about your pride?" He groaned.

"No, this is about his ignorance."

"Of the Creed? Kinda like you told me? Why do I think you have another reason?" He said, eyes flashing.

I shrugged.

"You do realize you scared the shit out of everybody?" His knuckled were white on the wooden beams.

"Yeah, pretty much." I replied.

There were a couple minutes of silence before Kinja huffed and begrudgingly spoke, "You're right."

"About what?" I asked, completely thrown off guard.

"There's something going on in the Creed… I have no idea what, but it's there."

I nodded slowly, "Yeah, I know."

Kinja gave me a dry glance. "I think Malik can tell too."

The thought that Malik knew more than he let on never occurred to me. Mostly because he was close to Altaïr and Altaïr was completely oblivious to everything.

"I think Rjorn knew too." Kinja stated softly.

I flashed back to the packages he gave me before nodding. "He was hung for disloyalty to the Creed."

"That's because he helped you." He whispered.

"The Mentor knew I was leaving. Raan told him. Besides, you had already left." I pointed out.

Kinja shook his head, "I don't think Raan told the Mentor you were leaving."

"But-" I protested.

"Cahil's becoming a good fighter. Didn't you teach him the basics?" Kinja changed the subject.

I gave him a confused glance before nodding, "Yes?"

"Amir says he's becoming more headstrong and arrogant by the day."

"We don't talk much anymore. Whenever I comment on his training or even pass him he blows me off." I paused before smiling and shoving Kinja lightly, "Kinda like someone I know."

Kinja rolled his eyes, "Amir said that he's spending a lot of time with Al Mualim nowadays."

I blinked slowly. "Amir was Rjorn's mentor."

The wiry boy, or I suppose man now, nodded solemnly. "I know."

"But then-"

"Amir is on trial." Kinja stated suddenly.

I blanched. "He was supposed to be head assassin instead of The Mentor. You don't think-?" I trailed off.

"So which side is right? The Mentor's or Amir's?" Kinja summed up my current thoughts.

"It doesn't make sense though! Besides jealousy over power, what else would there be fighting for?"

"Something bigger than us, Anima." Kinja's eyes grew distant.

"What do you mean?" I asked hysterically. What the hell was happening?

"I've heard, Anima… I've heard it."

"What have you heard?" I shook the boy, praying that he regained his senses.

A creepy smile came across the young assassin's face, "You've noticed it yourself, Anima. You just haven't seen it yet."

"That doesn't make sense!"

"It will."

"Kinja!" I screamed. He looked at me with perfectly clear eyes. "Tell me!"

His creepy smile went away to a grim line. "I can't say it; partly because I don't know if I'm right or not, partly because it's too dangerous. You'll have to find out on your own."

"How will I know what I'm supposed to know? I know a lot of things, what is it that I have to learn?" I complained slightly.

"You already know it. You just don't know that you do."

"Dammit Kinja! Since when were you the mysterious one that knew everything? That was supposed to be Malik's thing!"

"You're not in your armor." He pointed out randomly. I glanced down at my male civilian clothes.

"That doesn't answer anything." I declared loudly.

"Don't worry. You'll figure it out soon enough." Kinja gave a reassuring smile before turning his voice to a happier tone, "Besides, we've got time!"

I huffed, "Well at least tell me who is right."

Kinja shrugged. "I'm not sure about that one. I suppose it depends on your beliefs."

"Greeeaat." I grumbled. "Perfect. You're acting like you know everything and we still don't know what we're fighting!"

"But I know what we're fighting for." He pointed out cheerfully.

"What!?" I screamed in frustration.

"I can't tell you. You already know this. Really," he rolled his eyes, "I just said this two minutes ago."

"I already know what?"

"We've already had this conversation, Anima." He was right, of course, we were arguing in circles.

I huffed and Kinja smiled before glancing over his shoulder casually and walking away.

I was left staring after him like an idiot on the beach. After a minute or two I collapsed into the cool sand and started at the red and purple hues of the sunset.

A set of practically silent footsteps made me glance up languidly. Altaïr was walking slowly across the bridge; looking lethargic and dull. I didn't move and stayed in plain sight. He had yet to notice me. Up on the bridge I could see his facial features ice cold and withdrawn. They didn't look feral or wild like they normally were. Instead they were haunted. His hidden blade came out with a slight '_slink' _and he started carving into the wood bridge aimlessly while looking out over the water.

I stared at him blatantly.

Feeling a set of eyes on him, the white-cloaked figure stiffened before glancing around. His eyes met mine after a moment and I twisted my face into a smirk and gave him a wry salute.

Altaïr's face slipped into one of confusion before disbelief and then shifted again into an undecipherable expression. He hopped off the bridge with a deadly aura around him. He took his damn sweet time stalking towards me. I forced myself to relax and stare at the sunset again; paying no heed to Altaïr.

I found myself pinned with my hands over my head in a very proactive position not a moment later. A cool blade pressed into my throat which I recognized as Altaïr's hidden blade.

"You're alive." He snarled.

"In the flesh." I chirped back happily.

"How?"

"You don't seem very happy." I sniffed.

"I'm _very _happy." He purred slightly.

I didn't bother suppressing the shudder that went down my spine. Altaïr smirked slightly from on top of me.

"I would've thought you'd be mad." I pointed out.

"Hmmm…" he buried his nose in my neck and it tickled slightly. "Why would that be?"

"Because you lost the battle." I laughed.

He stiffened. "What battle?"

"_The _battle." I answered vaguely. Altaïr remained silent. I took the moment to shove him off me slightly and stand up. "But don't worry, there's still the war. Though, I doubt you'll win that either." I taunted. He gave me a confused expression as I slowly wiped off my pants. I laughed again.

"I can't wait to see how this plays out."

I turned to leave before being pinned back down into the same position I had been moments ago. A rough kiss was planted onto my lips before my mouth was forced open. With a groan, I shoved Altaïr off _again _and brushed the sand off my clothes _again _before giving him a disbelieving glare.

"We are not doing anything sexual on the beach…" I trailed off, "Besides, I don't need sand _down there. _As a matter of fact, we're not doing anything sexual of any sort for a _long _time."

"It that another battle I hear?" Altaïr smirked.

A grin fell into place on my face, "Maybe."

With that I sprinted back to the bureau.

Serious faces met me when I got back.

"What's going on?" I stuttered.

The Mentor looked weary. "It's come to our attention that Jacques Amadieu has took over Trystan's cause."

"Yeah, so we hunt him down and kill him." I stated slowly.

"We can't find him. Nobody knows where he's run off to."

"Then what's the problem? We can wait."

A look was passed between The Mentor and Al Mualim. "There's an army marching for us about two days out."

My eyes bulged out of my sockets. "Wha- what?"

"We're officially out war." Al Mualim spoke for the first time.

The Mentor nodded before locking eyes with me, "We want you on the front lines, leading, Anima. You've more than proved to us your capabilities."

I glanced around for Malik, Kinja, or Raan, only to find them absent. There were only a handful of other Assassins in the room, and they were all of full rank.

"It would be my honor." I stated honestly; a mixture of horror and pride filling my torso.

"Be prepared, Anima." One of the other Assassins spoke up. I recognized him, but was in too much of a state of shock to name him. The Mentor glanced back at the Assassin and nodded at him; a series of emotions crossing his face.

I dipped my head respectfully before turning heel and sprinting out of the room.

I ended up with a sporadic heartbeat outside the church. Without thinking twice I scaled up the walls and hopped recklessly into the main hall. The nun was standing at the base of it, otherwise it was empty. I don't know what pulled me here, but something did.

I ran up the nun and stared at her while attempting to catch my breath. Her sightless eyes seemed wide and panicked; her normally calm exterior cracking. With trembling hands she grabbed my shoulders with more force than I thought possible for such a frail frame.

"You need to save him."

"Save who?" I huffed.

"Amir."

"I was planning on it." I panted.

"Good. Good." She nodded. "You must hurry."

"I'm aware of that." I snapped.

"Child, you must act quickly."

"Why Amir?" I shot at her.

A pause…"He's your ally."

I sprinted all the way back to the bureau, sides heaving. Running through the halls, I spotted Kinja and started dragging him to my room.

"We've got a problem." I whispered the second I closed the door to my room.

Kinja nodded. "I heard the news."

"We have to save Amir." I stated confidently.

"Are you sure?" Kinja asked wearily.

I nodded. "Positive."

"How?" Kinja asked.

I shrugged. "I don't know."

"You're leading an army now." Kinja looked worried for me.

"That's irrelevant." I shot back.

"No, that ties your hands. Every move you make is being watched with exceeding care now." Kinja explained quickly.

"Then what do I do?" I hissed.

"We'll have to act fast."

"When do our enemies arrive?" Kinja asked lowly.

"Two days. We fight then." I choked out.

He made a humming noise of agreement, "We have to act soon."

"No shit." I grumbled.

"Not tonight though." Kinja sighed.

"No, not tonight." I agreed.

"Tomorrow night." Kinja stated finally.

"Will Amir live that long?" I sighed.

Kinja's face was drawn tight. "He'll have to."

"What of Cahil?"

"I don't know." Kinja ran his fingers through his hair before standing up. "I must go. Tomorrow night I'll meet you here."

"And that's our plan?" I _almost _shrieked out.

He remained silent and left the room.

I hit my head against the wall slowly. "'We have time'," I quoted Kinja from earlier lowly before scoffing, "Yeah, time my ass."

* * *

**A/N: **How's that for a cliff hanger?


	23. Chapter Twenty Two: The Real Beginning

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Assassin's Creed.

**Warning: **You're going to hate me for this chapter. **LAST CHAPTER OF THE BOOK! **Also, this is going to be an **infuriatingly short chapter**, just because I'm evil like that and it's the end of this book. **Language. **

_Racing the morning light over,  
Here it's always cloudy.  
When it rains it'll all be over,  
There's just never enough time._

_We're going nowhere so very fast,_  
_And everything else is changing,_  
_And flying through our present becomes the past._  
_With every second that's spent, We're spent._

_Boats made from leaves,_  
_Sacrifice, wrapped in straw,_  
_When I was a kid, the world was in a bottle,_  
_Cause my friends they were different._  
_I've got civilizations living amongst the tree's,_  
_Whole families living inside of my own sleeves,_  
_In these stitches that I wore so thin._

_Waking up clutching shards of broken glass,_  
_Shattered reflections of a broken world,_  
_Waking up pouring drops of my own blood._

"World In a Bottle" by: Anavae

* * *

**Chapter Twenty Two: The Real Beginning **

I woke up in the middle of the night and after a couple minutes of sorting out my thoughts I decided to find my more sensible half. No- not Altaïr- Lord knows that man couldn't think straight if you shoved a metal rod through his brain, which was something I wanted to do quite often, mind you.

I went to her quarters only to find it empty. With a slight frown, I headed to the only other place I'd expect her to go.

Closing the solid door behind me, I walking through the nearly pitch black library silently. _Nearly _pitch black.

"You should be sleeping." I whispered softly to her.

She jumped slightly before smiling, "Hypocrite." There was a moment of silence and Amelia looked beyond my shoulder with a troubled expression. I followed her eyes but saw nothing. She sighed before looking back at me. "What's wrong?"

"I have a bad feeling, Amelia.´

"A bad feeling about what?"

I waved my hands around. "About this, about everything!" Amelia nodded slightly and I rubbed my wrist absentmindedly.

She looked at it with a sad expression. "It still hurts?"

"Every damn day." I muttered.

"Not working?"

"It's hindering my abilities as an Assassin. It's deadly. I'd rather just lose my hand instead." I grumbled.

Amelia laughed slightly. "But at least you can climb with it."

"Barely." I sighed.

A sympathetic look crossed her face. "Cien's working on it."

I snorted. "She hasn't said anything."

"She's guilty about it and doesn't want to get your hopes up."

I rolled my bad wrist in the socket slightly, wincing when it caught and popped. "She told you?"

A nod. "Yeah."

"I think my dreams have been shattered anyways." My eyes clouded over as I drifted into my own world.

Amelia's voice snapped me out of it. "You have a plan?"

"I don't think it will work."

She scoffed slightly. "Don't your plans always work?"

I allowed myself to smile. "In some shape or form."

"Then I wouldn't worry about it." Amelia comforted me.

"Soo… what's new in your life?" I changed the subject awkwardly.

She shrugged. "I don't think that's important right now." I rolled my eyes at her antics. Amelia leaned forward with a mischievous look in her eyes. "So… you and Altaïr? What's going on in _that _front?"

"I have no idea, honestly." I answered truthfully.

"He likes you." She sung lightly.

"I'm starting to question that notion." I objected.

"You're right- he _loves _you." Amelia drawled out.

"He has quite the way of expressing it."

"He's new to it."

"So am I and you don't see me acting like a jackass."

"But you do act like a bitch." She stated matter-of-factly.

"I do not!" I protested before giving pause, "Actually, I kinda do. But that doesn't count!"

She gave me a disbelieving glance. "You like him."

I stilled for a moment. "Yes?"

"Yes Or _Yes_?"

"Yes." I answered firmly.

"Well that's good." She clapped her hands and jumped. "And it's about damn time you admitted it too."

I gave her a confused glance before following her line of sight once again to see none other than Altaïr perched on the rafters like a big game cat getting ready to pounce on its prey. He hopped down and Amelia ran out of the room before I could react.

A serious look was painted onto his face and he strode towards me. I stood frozen in place.

"Oh damn." I breathed out.

He stood right in front of me and grabbed my wrist, studying it intently.

"You shouldn't be moving this wrist. Or climbing with it for that matter."

"I shouldn't be shoving lustful assassins off me with it either." I shot back, clearly flustered.

A breathy laugh came from him. "There are a few exceptions to every rule."

I nodded. "You prepared to fight?" I asked him.

"Yes." He growled softly, leaning close.

I nodded again, this time shakily. "That's good."

"You're not doing assassinations with your wrist either."

I let out a pathetic laugh, "Oh, I don't think I'll be doing assassinations for a while." It wasn't a lie… it just wasn't the truth either.

"That's good." He breathed. "You are taking a break from this line of work, am I correct?" I paused for a moment. Altaïr sensed me hiding something and grabbed my chin so our eyes met. "What is it?"

I swallowed slightly before attempting to stand tall. "The Mentor has placed me in charge of the army. I'll be on the front lines for these fights."

His grip tightened on my chin slightly before he let go and kissed me softly. "We'll see about that."

I blinked before turning cross. "Just who are you fighting for, Altaïr?"

"What do you mean?"

I opened my mouth to explain before snapping it shut and dropping the subject. "I'm leading this army whether you like it or not."

Altaïr remained silent.

I took the silence as a chance to end the conversation. "Goodnight, Altaïr."

"This wasn't the battle I was expecting, Anima." Altaïr called after me.

Well, this was just fucking great.

I was officially fighting three wars, and I was now pretty sure I was going to lose all three.

**The End. For now, at least. **


	24. Author's Note

**VERY **

**VERY **

_**VERY **_

**IMPORTANT! Please, oh please, read!**

Please take a moment to _review or PM _me with any plotlines that I might not have finished that I mentioned in earlier chapters so I can finish this series with no lose ends. This book has taken me a while to write and sometimes I forget to tie up side plot lines. If this is so, it may be confusing. This will not only help the books progress forward, but allow me to add more interesting details to the _sequel_.

Also, I wanted to say **thank you** so much for all of your support. There will be a **sequel** to this, which I will be posting up on fanfiction once I start writing more of this. Unfortunately, I will be taking a little **break** from fanfiction so the sequel won't be up until **summer.** However, I will post a chapter here giving you the official date when I have my ducks in a row. I'll also work on keeping **my page up-to-date**. So, I'll put new info on _that_.

Anyways, if you **like my work**, I will be putting up some **original fiction** on a little site I like to call **wattpad**, under the **same user name**. So, that should be fun 'cause I enjoy doing stuff like that.

Also, if you've been following this story, be sure to subscribe to this one, because I will be sure to put a note up on this story about when I do actually put the book up.


	25. Trouble - ONESHOT

**A One-Shot to get you through the break.**

**UNEDITED!**

**Trouble**

"I don't like this idea." Cien said, leaning in close to my ear before scrunching up her nose in disgust.

"This is a fabulous idea." Amelia was crouched next to me with a maniac grin spread across her face.

I nodded and agreed with her, "Look on the bright side, Cien: you might be able to see Kinja… with less clothes on than usual."

Even in the dark I could see her face turn bright red as I gave her a perverted smile. I rolled my eyes and slapped her slightly, "Besides, this is so Amelia can see _her_ lover boy." Amelia's smile was still on her face as she crept forward.

"Are you sure Altaïr isn't going to catch us?" Cien crept over to my other shoulder and glanced around nervously.

I rolled my eyes slightly, "_Yes, Cien. _He's on a mission with Malik, remember?"

"I know, but-"

I cut Cien off, "No buts… well, maybe _some _when we get to the men's area-"

Amelia made a choking noise in attempt to hold in her laughter. "Okay, focus. We need to review the plan in case we get split up."

"I'm going towards the river, per usual."

There was a scoff from Cien before she spoke, "I'll bolt towards the gardens."

"And I'm heading towards the women's chambers." Amelia said with a reassuring nod, though it was mostly for herself.

They both started moving forward silently before I caught both of their shoulder, "Remember: if we get caught, don't rat each other out like whiny bitches. Got it?" I raised an eyebrow specifically at Cien, who had a habit of coughing up information easily.

She locked her jaw and nodded in determination."Let's do this."

We crept through the small alleyway that led to the men's cleaning chambers. No woman was supposed to be there, but hey… a girl's got to do something to get rid of her boredom, and this seemed like a good way to pass time. All of the fully fledged Assassins were out running around, leaving only time for the perfect aged Assassins for spying on. It was absolutely perfect.

The air got more humid and we slipped slightly on the slick tiles near the chambers. Amelia and I met eyes again; her eyes flashed with mischief. It wasn't a look I'd seen on her very often.

We crouched behind a large fountain and got as comfortable as we could. I wasn't particularly excited to see Raan, my best friend, in the nude, but _damn_ there were some fine boys lounging around.

"My virgin eyes1" Cien's eyes were taking in everything in front of her.

"You're going to thank me for this idea… eventually." I said in a low voice; it would be awful if we got caught.

A boy from one of the other bases, who was here on a mission, stripped his towel off without even flinching and tossed it carelessly towards us.

"This is pretty damn great." Amelia leaned back slightly and smirked.

I raised my eyebrows, "Yeah… it's okay."

"Only okay?" Cien's eyes were wide.

Amelia answered for me, "Well, when you have a guy like Altaïr waiting on your every move…"

"Shut up!" I hissed at them.

"Are you sure this isn't considered cheating on him?" Cien looked worried.

"Positive. I mean, we're not even together. We kissed once or twice then he chose his whores and I've got _this_, which let me tell you, isn't all that bad."

We all turned back to look at all the muscled bodies before us. Another set of footsteps came from one of the entrances on the other side of the yard.

Amelia pitched herself forward and squinted, "Is that? Oh God, we need to go!"

"Malik!" Cien turned on her heel.

"Oh shit." I cursed under my breath.

We started scrambling backwards without tripping over ourselves. More footsteps were coming from the alleyway we used to escape. All three of us looked over our shoulders for another exit, just in time to catch an eyeful of Malik in his full glory.

We all gagged for a moment before getting ready to bolt.

"On three." Amelia said in a small voice.

"One." I went to the balls of my feet.

"Two." My muscles froze.

"Girls!" Malik's voice called over the area. I froze for a minute. _So. Close. _I closed my eyes before Amelia shrieked.

"Fuck this! Run!" Each of us split in different directions. It was only then that I realized that my choice of a hiding place (the river), required me to run _through_ the bathing area. I'd be _damned _if that was going to stop me though.

Some of the guys looked amused, some just sunk into the water. Others grabbed their towels. Either way, none made any moves to stop me as I dashed through the bathing area. It was more difficult than it looked because the tile was slick and my bare feet couldn't get a grip.

Malik, unfortunately, had decided to target me as his victim. I slid through a puddle and managed to scrape by him into the exit before taking off. I was laughing my ass of as adrenaline pumped through my veins and the somewhat warm wind dried the humidity from the water. I felt my heart go light as I turned and twisted my way through the streets.

It was a couple minutes later when I decided to check over my shoulder; something that most Assassins were trained _not _to do. Malik wasn't there.

I laughed again and slowed down to a walk after a couple steps. The stars were coming out and I hadn't felt so alive in a while. A shadow made me look up and I felt my face pale: I'd stopped too early, Malik was still trailing me.

Without a second thought, I started sprinting again; this time with more conviction then just enjoying the run. When the shadow pulled alongside me on the rooftops, I veered right, hoping to get out of range for being tackled. However, the shadow didn't do anything more than stay parallel to me. Everything clicked: it was Altaïr.

Damn. That was even worse. Especially is Malik already told him what went down: He'd go nuts.

I raced through the streets and used every trick in my inventory of tricks to avoiding people. Finally, an open window lay in front of me. Without a second of hesitation, I dove through it, jumped over a desk, and out onto another street before ducking into an alleyway and making my way towards the old bridge in the shadows. It took a tedious amount of time to get there; by I managed to slip into the darkness of the riverbank, my muscles were screaming from exhaustion.

The sand was cool, but the wind still felt warm. I stuck my feet into the banks and squished the mud through my toes: it felt weird, but it was relaxing. Everything was peaceful and I dozed off for a couple minutes. That was until, at least, a large object collided with me and we both tumbled into the river.

I threw an elbow into Altaïr's side and splashed water into his face.

"You know," he pinned me down in the shallows, where the only part of me that wasn't submersed was my head, which I had to crane up to keep somewhat dry, "if you wanted to see some more flesh, all you need to do is ask."

I picked my tone carefully, "Why? Jealous?"

"Mmm, very." His lips met mine and I felt the rough skin of his scar rub slightly up my nose.

"I'm sorry." I put a –hopefully- innocent pout on my face. I probably looked like a demented puppy more than anything though.

"No you're not." He kissed my neck slightly and a chill ran up my spine – though it was probably the river.

"You're right." He stopped kissing me suddenly and dunked my head under water for a moment. It was shockingly cold. I spit the vile water out of my mouth. "What the hell was that for?"

He didn't reply, but went straight for my neck with his lips.

"Hey- hey! That's going to mark! If you-" My head was dipped under water again suddenly. My hair hung in my eyes. This time though, I managed to get a breath in. "What the hell are you trying to do? Drown me?"

He grumbled slightly and went back towards his advances; a heavy arm wrapped around my waist.

"You think this is so fucking funny, don't you?" I was trying to contain my laughter, because it kinda was. "Well it's not! Get off of me you-"

Again, my head went under water. This time his hand mashed into my face and kept my head down for a couple seconds longer.

"When they teach us Chinese water torture, this isn't-" My head went under water again.

I came back up and opened my mouth to make another witty comment, but snapped it shut and decided to glare at Altaïr, who looked extremely amused with the turn of events.

I raised an eyebrow at him.

"You talk too much." He answered my silent question.

I managed to grasp the top of his cloak and shove him into the water. "You ass!"

I'm not sure how long we stayed like that, wrestling around in the banks, but we both ended up getting sick from the water the next day.

It was all Altaïr's fault.

Even though I was the one who went to the beach first.

But he's still in trouble.

**OoOoOoOoOoOo**

**Anybody willing to draw Anima or create another one-shot of them? **


	26. Author's Note 3

I'm back.

School didn't get out for me until today.

Updates will hopefully be somewhat frequent, but I'm doing a lot this summer and I don't know for a fact what my schedule is.

The prologue to Love and Hate is up now.

I would also like 3 things from whoever's willing:

**2 beta readers for ****Love and Hate**** – **I want to have 2 so no mistakes are made. Kinda like a filtration process, you know? But I want it to be fast because I don't enjoy posting chapters that are unedited and sloppy. Unfortunately this is what happened to most of **War and Peace**.

**1 beta reader for ****War and Peace** – I'd like to think that my writing has improved greatly over this long hiatus, so I'd like somebody (who isn't on a rushed schedule) to go back and re-read/edit **War and Peace** with me. We don't have to be on a tight schedule, I just want to work out some issues.

Thank you for hanging in there,  
LivesTooShort52


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